Something to Talk About
by LaughingTiger
Summary: Ravenna Cousland has secrets that change the man who fell in love with her. Vigilance, sacrifice and victory don't turn out how anyone expected.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: This is my first writing project in several years. Something I once enjoyed doing and have only recently found time for again. Reviews would be appreciated. This version of Cousland is perhaps a bit unusual, and I hope it's not too difficult to understand. I intend to fill in some back story eventually, and I've got several chapters waiting for 'final draft' treatment. I really like all the characters in DA and I hope when I write them, I don't mangle them too badly. I like to use a lot of in-game dialog, but you'll notice it's somewhat out of context. Well, it sounds like something they'd say because they -did- say it. Anyway, let me know what y'all think. Don't spare my feelings.  
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Ravenna was tired, and half hypnotized by the rhythmic sound and motion of sharpening her sword. Today she had been hard on the blade, and she had been putting off keening the edge for too long anyway. She didn't hear Alistair approach, and wasn't sure how long he'd been standing there, watching her in the growing dusk before he said anything.

"I need to talk to you, Rave." The steel in his voice and the direct statement seemed confident and commanding, but she thought she detected a note of pleading.

She flicked her gaze to his face. Or maybe not pleading. He looked... intent.

"Nothing has changed." He didn't acknowledge that she said anything. "I'm listening." she said with a resigned sigh.

"Privately." he clarified. She opened her mouth to argue but he cut her off."Soon. I'll be waiting over there." He indicated a fallen log near the edge of camp and turned on his heel.

She watched his retreating back for a moment before returning to her blade and silently berated herself for not being better prepared. Of course he would want to talk about things, she should have been strategizing, assembling her arguments. As much as she hated to admit it, instead she had been trying as hard as she could to not think about him at all. These things had always been so simple for her. Charming men to her bed, taking what she wanted from them and moving on without a second thought. He was different though. This had been so much like the first time... but she didn't want to admit that either. It frightened her in so many ways to think that she had been caught in the same trap that nearly destroyed her once before.

When Alistair told her outside Redcliffe that he'd been keeping something from her, something probably not important but that she deserved knowing, her heart raced as she listened and recognized her way out. It was a way out that was his fault, not because of her fear and the ragged scars of her past. She pretended to be hurt and betrayed and said she couldn't trust him. Or maybe she didn't pretend those things, she had been hurt and betrayed and she never trusted her lovers. She controlled them, then discarded them. But none of it was his fault, and that was what she pretended. It nearly broke his heart, but with his sense of honor and duty and his oh-so-high morals, he felt guilty enough that he believed what she said: He was mistrustful and thus, untrustworthy. It nearly broke her heart to make him believe it, but she was afraid if she didn't end it then, she wouldn't be able to find another way out.

Hearing the determination he spoke with, and seeing the same in his eyes, she worried about what he 'needed to talk' about. She had confided in him, so many things she'd never spoken aloud to another soul, but still she had kept the core of most of it to herself. She wanted to share it all with him, but she was terrified he would see her and reject her. Could he have seen through her excuse to push him away?

With those thoughts, Ravenna decided her course of action. As much as she might have longed to reconcile, to confide in him once more and then take him to bed, she wouldn't allow herself to. It didn't matter what Alistair was intending to say, he wouldn't get to say it. Instead, she would answer the unvoiced questions that had been in his eyes when he confronted her about Zevran. She had not lied, the assassin didn't mean anything to her and she didn't intend to pursue anything further with him, but she doubted he would be able to listen to why she chose to spend a night with him. Given his dislike for the elf, she doubted she would even finish speaking before he stormed away. On the off chance she _did_ get through it, she could always tell him the details he declined to hear when she admitted to having had "her share and then some" when he asked her innuendo-laden questions about lamp-posts in winter.

Satisfied with the edge, she wiped her newly sharpened blade with an oiled rag and packed up her files, whetstone and oiled cloths. She sheathed the blade and set it with her small shield and armor. Leave it here, remove the temptation to take the easy way out of this, she thought with grim humor. She still had her utility dagger and wasn't helpless by any stretch, though lack of armor made her feel vulnerable. No matter, she wasn't going into battle, just a little way into the forest, and she didn't expect this to take long. She drew a steadying breath and walked to the edge of camp.

Alistair had been watching Ravenna since they got back to camp, trying to work up the nerve to go speak to her. Ravenna was in the right to be angry with him. There were opportunities he didn't take to tell her about his parentage, but he hadn't meant to deceive her. He meant it when he said he was afraid of telling her because he didn't want it to change anything. The irony that it was _not_ telling her that drove her away was yet more proof of what a sodding idiot he was. He was angry at himself for being a fool and for being too cowardly to try to correct his mistake before now. Ravenna looked sad and tired in the failing light, and finally he found himself walking toward her. He hadn't been intimidated by her before Redcliffe, and she hadn't changed much since they had been lovers, he reasoned.

He wasn't sure exactly what he was going to say, but he had to tell her how he felt. He had to try to win her trust back, and the only way he could think of was to talk and show her that he trusted her. He looked up when the soft, ringing scrape of her whetstone ceased. The light was bad but it seemed her hands were trembling very faintly as she tested the edge and stowed her gear. Was she afraid? Nervous, excited maybe? Perhaps he had a chance to win her back if he played his cards right.

"Let's walk a bit," she suggested when she got to the fallen log, "this is hardly private." He nodded and followed her away from camp. He tried to collect his thoughts and compose exactly what he would say, to little avail. Camp was out of sight and earshot now. He drew a breath and gently grabbed her elbow.

"This isn't getting easier. Let's..." He began.

"I wish you'd let things be, Alistair," she interrupted. "Since you can't," she drew a breath, dead calm now that she was back in control, "I need to tell you some things." He was tempted to interrupt, but instead he rested his weight on a nearby boulder and nodded. He would_ show_ her that he could be trusted, that she could still confide in him...

"I kept some details from you when you asked me about Zevran and I," she began, and his face darkened, "I meant everything I said, but... what better way to test his loyalty than to spend the night, vulnerable, in his tent?"

It took a moment to sink in. "No, stop. You didn't, you said he didn't... when?" He felt like the world was crumbling around him. She meant so much to him and she'd been sleeping with that murdering wretch the whole time? But that didn't make sense, he'd been with her every night since he finally accepted her invitation to her tent until she suddenly broke everything off between them, "You couldn't have."

His reaction pained her, but she refused to let it show. Instead she smirked at him and scoffed at his disbelief, "Oh I couldn't? I surely did, and at the first opportunity that presented itself. He's practically an artist, and I have to say it was thrilling not knowing if he was going to poison me or cut my throat. I was surprised to wake up in the morning," Her voice dropped to a husky whisper, "and even more by how he woke me."

She was choosing her words to cut at him! He clenched his hands into fists and turned away, he couldn't look at her, "Please stop. I don't understand why you're doing this. I thought we meant something to each other."

Ravenna just looked at him, saying nothing. She would drive him away, but not with outright falsehoods. His nails were digging into his palms painfully and he could feel himself trembling slightly with hurt and rage. He drew a deep breath, trying to calm himself enough to speak. When he spoke, it was barely a whisper, "Why did you hide it? And how can you say I was the one to betray you when you intentionally mislead me about this?"

"There's more."

"Don't tell me. I don't want to hear it."

"That's what you said before, but I insist. You know I've taken several lovers before you, but I suspect you think that means a handful... You're so naive sometimes. I bet you heard rumors about me, you just didn't know it was me they were talking about. You probably thought it was just a revitalized folk tale. Can you guess what they call me?" This was it. He hadn't hit her or run away yet, but surely this would turn him away from her. Her heart was in her throat, waiting to deliver the final blow.

By this point he felt like it was a bad dream. The woman he thought he knew and who had claimed to love him was enjoying mocking and hurting him. He was practically in a daze. But she'd asked him a question... Rumors and gossip or tall tales... about Highever probably. Then he had it. There was talk of a warrior woman, a fury who rode into battle with the soldiers of Highever, then claimed the bravest warriors who survived battle to her bed. "Alaisiagae of the Coastlands? No, that's just a story. You aren't like that."

She sneered at his denial, "Like what? You've seen me fight, and you know why I learned to wield a blade. I've been going on patrols with my brother for years. Not 'riding into battle' exactly, but close enough." She leaned close and dropped her voice to a sultry whisper, "And you know how much fighting makes me want to fuck." She thought she saw his cheeks color and she hoped that being coarse about it would drive the truth home, "The answer, _lover_, is scores. I stopped counting years ago at half a hundred. Probably no one you know, other than Zevran of course."

She paused half a beat, "Ah, and before him there was Duncan. How did that slip my mind? Every night for weeks on the way to Ostagar. He made it clear that when we arrived, it would be over and he'd deny everything. I think he was ashamed of me." She barked a harsh laugh, "Or maybe it was himself he was ashamed of. Either way, he knew all about me when he came looking for recruits. That's probably why he conscripted me."

"You're lying. Duncan wouldn't have... taken advantage of a recruit. And you're half his age. Enough of this! You're..."

"I'm telling the truth," she interrupted. "I knew you wouldn't be able to handle it. You're a naive, idealistic fool. I tried to spare your feelings and give you a graceful way out of this, but you wouldn't take it." As calculated and cultivated as her 'confession' had been to this point, she was now genuinely furious. She'd been raising her voice a little with each sentence. Alistair made her forget who she was, he made her think she could be happy with someone. And most unforgivable, he made her feel like she was still worthy of someone as kind and good and loving as he was. She looked at him, he was tense with anger, and dejection and embarrassment had him seemingly trying to hide by folding inward. She'd gone too far. She'd hurt him far more than she intended.

His stunned silence was crushing her. She turned quickly and practically fled back toward camp. Her stomach churned and she suddenly felt lightheaded. This wasn't what being in control felt like, what was she doing? How could she stand being alone again after loving him? She felt panic threatening to take over before she forced herself back to a semblance of calm. It was best this way. If he could have loved her truly, none of what she said would have turned him away. She tried to believe it was that simple.


	2. Chapter 2

The wardens didn't speak to one another for days, beyond the necessary. Ravenna left Alistair in camp as much as possible, it was easier to keep her facade in place if she didn't have to think about him, but it was a hardship to take over his role in the battle party. She wasn't built to take that much punishment and on defense, her speed and finesse were wasted. It left too great a burden on the rest of the party to dispatch their foes quickly.

This time it was he who was repairing his gear as she rounded the campfire. She didn't know how to broach the subject gracefully, so she did it bluntly, "We need to be able to work together. Will you walk with me?"

He didn't look up, but he ceased his work replacing a broken buckle. "I don't know if I dare, after last time."

"Please. We were friends, I would that we resumed that..."

He cut her off by standing abruptly. He was clearly angry. "Fine, walk," he said as he stalked away from camp, leaving his equipment in a heap by the fire. She hurried to follow and found it difficult to match his pace in the gathering night.

They were far enough to afford some privacy and they were nearing a tree toppled by an eroding hillside. "This is far enough, can we..."

He rounded on her, unwilling to let her control the conversation, "Say what you're going to say. Let's be done with this." His arms were crossed over his chest, his posture defensive, but poised to turn aggressive in a heartbeat.

She drew a steadying breath. He was far angrier than she expected. She thought he was more dejected and humiliated than this. "As I said, we need to be able to work together. It's hurting everyone to exclude you from the battle party and I need to know we won't be so distracted we endanger... "

"You can stop right there. I'm going to talk and you're going to listen. We are not friends, you made certain of that. You've made mock of everything that matters to me. I think you must be right about why Duncan recruited you, as sick as the thought makes me. You, a Gray Warden? You disgrace the whole order." He paused, expecting an outburst from the woman in front of him, but she wouldn't even meet his gaze, so he continued. "You betrayed my trust and left me feeling like the biggest maker-damned fool in creation for being taken in by your deceptions and that's all you have to speak to me about? Our effectiveness in battle." He laughed bitterly, "I don't know what I hoped for. Of course you don't think you've anything to apologize for, or to be ashamed of. Business as usual, then, Rave? We'll just be friends now, fellow wardens? We'll act like you haven't slept with half the men-at-arms this side of the Waking Sea, shamed the order, manipulated and mislead people who trusted you, and forget the messy business of making me believe we might have had something... What was it all for?" His anger didn't diminish, but his resolve seemed to fade somewhat as he went on.

She realized she was practically cowering before him. Her jaw clenched and she threw her head back to meet his gaze. This wasn't going well. "Why apologize? That would never make up for any of it."

"There's a shocker. Let me guess, I'm supposed to forgive you anyway."

"Oh, Maker. I... I didn't, I mean..." she drew a ragged breath, "I don't expect your forgiveness, Alistair." She lowered her gaze to her boots, her hair shadowing her face.

Was she covering tears? He was so intent on his rage at her that he hadn't been paying attention to how it was affecting her. Alistair hadn't seen her this unsure and subdued since she'd haltingly related the few details she was willing to share with him about her childhood trauma. It was startling to see the woman he'd been following and fighting beside lose her composure. Her confidence, poise and self-possession had evaporated. What was left?

But Alistair was still furious. Ravenna had been intentionally cruel, he would treat her to the same tonight. "I suppose I shouldn't expect much of you, you never had a chance to learn what it means to be a warden, and it seems the rest of what I thought you were was a fantasy."

She choked back a sob. A physical blow would have been far easier to bear, Alistair's words couldn't have cut more deeply. His belief in those words made her believe them. A wave of overwhelming emptiness seemed to extinguish everything else within her. It was done. He finally _saw_ her. She felt complete despair and isolation, but she was calm. There was nothing to lose.

Alistair almost reached out to her as she curled in on herself, but he stopped himself. She sobbed only once and then seemed to deflate, the tension draining out of her. Then she straightened somewhat and met his eyes for the first time in possibly weeks, but there was no expression in them at all.

"We still need to mend things, despite how unworthy and despicable you find me. Others are at risk."

He studied her, unsure what he had just witnessed. "I see the necessity, but not the possibility as things stand."

Ravenna realized he wasn't going to say anything more, he must have thought this was her problem to solve alone. "Very well. An apology can't change anything I've done, but I offer one for how I treated you. I let my fear convince me to be dishonest and cruel. I regret that above any of the many mistakes I've made." Her voice was nearly expressionless, she hoped he didn't take that to mean she was being false or trying to placate him. She simply didn't feel capable of mustering the energy to express any of her emotions about her behavior.

He was watching her like a hawk. The light was poor, but she doubted he was missing any nuance of her expression, so intent was he. And still, he said not a word. "I would willingly explain any motive or answer any question you pose to me," she offered.

Alistair's expression seemed to darken. "And give you an opportunity to make a fool of me again? What excuse do you think you could concoct that would make me want to forgive you?" Despite his words, he did want to hear what she would say. He wanted every terrible moment with her since Redcliffe to have been a misunderstanding, or for her to have a perfect excuse. By no means would he make it easy for her, but he desperately wanted his friend, fellow warden and lover back, not this cruel, whoring, empty husk. "Start with Zevran. Explain that away, if you can." It was that deception that hurt the most. The whole camp must have known what she'd done, and he blinded himself to it. If she couldn't fix that, none of the rest was worth a second thought.

Ravenna held her head high, but fixed her gaze to a point over his shoulder. "I was with Zevran after you told me you didn't want to... rush into anything with me. I thought," she paused and set her jaw, "it doesn't matter what I thought. Everyone still doubted my decision to allow a Crow assassin into our camp, so I decided to put the matter to rest, at least for myself, for good. He made it easy and I think afterward he understood why I'd done it. It was one night and I don't have any intent to change that."

The explanation didn't help much. Knowing she thought he'd rejected her for lack of interest made it seem less of a betrayal, however. "He might have killed you. Would you have let him?"

Ravenna didn't want to answer. She felt small and pathetic and weak. But, she reasoned, he could hardly think less of her than he did already. The answer she gave contained an admission she had not even made to herself. Her voice was a bare whisper, "Yes. I wanted him to."

Her answer shocked him. Ravenna was strong and decisive. At times she seemed as untouchable as a force of nature. Alistair had underestimated the emotional and mental wounds she hid beneath her well-crafted facade. Self-destruction on this scale was not something he thought her capable of. "Why?"

She turned away so he wouldn't see the panic and desperation in her eyes, "It's the best thing that I can hope for. I'm so weary, you were all that kept me going and you didn't want me, even when you didn't know what you now do. I can't change what was done to me or who I've been. I didn't know how to tell you what... what I'd done. I never thought I'd... want someone again. I didn't know it would ever matter."

He didn't know what to say. After everything she put him through and all she told him of herself he didn't know what to believe. She seemed to be almost more confused, angry, and hurt than he was. She hadn't exactly betrayed him with the assassin, or lied about her past but she had deceived him, or at least allowed him to deceive himself. Then he realized something, "Redcliffe was just an excuse, wasn't it? You didn't really care, did you? Why did you lie about _that_ of all things? Was it so terrible being with me?"

She wanted to cry to him that it was the happiest she'd ever been, but she didn't dare admit that. Instead she reminded herself that he hated her and she simply owed him an explanation. She choked down her emotional response. "I was never good enough for a man like you, but especially if you're Theirin blood and you might have to take the crown... You would have had to set me aside for duty, even if you had been willing to lower yourself to be with me. It was best to stop deluding ourselves."

Hearing this answer, he put his hand on her shoulder, intending to turn her to face him once more. She spun and brushed his hand away, "Don't!" Her voice was thick with tears and panic and she backed away from him.

Her tears startled him. She seemed so lost and afraid right now. This wasn't the woman he knew, and he didn't know what happened to change her so completely. "I wouldn't hurt you, Rave. You can trust me..." I still love you, he silently added, surprising himself a little at the realization that it was true, despite all that she'd done to try to change it. She wouldn't look at him and he was afraid to ask her to. She didn't speak again and he didn't know what to say.

He sighed when he realized they were probably going to end up standing in the woods in the dark all night if he didn't do something, "I guess it's my turn, then?" When she didn't respond, he continued. "Right. I was meaning to apologize again for not telling you about my parentage sooner, but I guess that wasn't ever the problem, was it? So scratch that. Not sorry." He paused. Trying to decide his course, "I need some time.. I'm furious with you for being such a coward and trying to make me think it was my fault.. and the rest... Maker's Breath. It's all true isn't it?" His hurt and anger came flooding back. Maybe she had been right to push him away. He didn't know if he would be able to forgive her.

She couldn't find her voice, so she just nodded. She hadn't felt so ashamed of who she was in years. She was terrified to look at him so she fixed her gaze at the ground and tried to wait calmly for him to leave or strike her or start yelling. He didn't seem the type to lose his temper to violence, but considering his brutality on the battlefield, she really didn't know what to expect. She was very good at acting strong and fearless, but it was all a very carefully-constructed lie and she hadn't the heart to lie any more tonight.

Ravenna's life had been nothing but terror and uncertainty since she was thirteen and her 'first love' helped a band of brigands abduct her. They hadn't intended for her to live, just to collect the ransom and get away. They kept her tied up in an abandoned cottage for nearly a week. She was raped, beaten and left to die. Everything that she had since become was a direct result of that traumatic betrayal. Alistair knew that it happened, but she hadn't told him the details or how different she had been before. The woman he knew existed to hide the fear and shame and loneliness that were all that survived of the delicate, sweet, innocent girl she'd been. She couldn't bring herself to take off her painstakingly created masks, even for him.

He sensed her insecurity and how afraid she was of him and the last of his anger drained out of him. "I guess it doesn't matter. This all happened before I fell in love with you, it was still true then, even if I didn't know it. Is there anything else I should know?"

Her voice was a ghost of a whisper, "I hope not." She sunk to the ground, exhausted and continued, "There's more I could tell you, but I don't have any other secrets."

He sat beside her, "Then come here," he put his arm around her. She tensed for a moment, then rested her head on his chest, "You turn my world inside out and tie me in knots, but I can't stand to see you like this." He brushed his lips against the top of her head and stroked her dark hair. "There's no more of this in our future, is there? Can we just be honest with each other now?"

She pulled away and wrapped her arms around her knees, no longer weeping. "I don't know. How can you stand to look at me after all that?"

"Honestly, I'm a little surprised myself." He grinned ruefully, "I don't think this went how either of us expected." Alistair frowned a little, "Let's try to 'resume our friendship' in the hopes of preserving the lives of your entourage, then?" She ghosted a smile and nodded slightly.

He started to draw her back toward him, but she scooted away, "No, don't. Just friends, nothing closer. I'm sorry, but it's done. Nothing has changed. I'm still completely unworthy and undeserving... and I'm still terrified to..." She couldn't finish, tears were welling in her eyes again and she couldn't fight them back if she kept speaking.

Alistair's brow furrowed, suddenly realizing where the root of all this insecurity lay, "I'm not him. I'd never hurt you like that, nor let anyone else." He was getting frustrated now, even after all this, she wasn't going to trust him. All because she couldn't see _him_ through the ghosts of her past. "But I won't press you. We should probably head back, it's late." Alistair stood and offered her a hand up. Ravenna still didn't meet his gaze but at least she accepted his hand.


	3. Chapter 3

The Wardens' army grew and the companions traveled on. It seemed things were falling into place very rapidly. Soon they would be ready to approach Denerim and the council for support. As close as they were, things still seemed to be following the same old routine within camp. It seemed almost like nothing would ever change.

Alistair wasn't surprised things were still somewhat tense between them, and to be honest, they were better than he might have expected. It had taken a bit of time, but now he and Ravenna worked as well together on the battlefield as ever. And when others were around she was relaxed enough to treat him like she once did, before they became lovers. They were friends. And she flirted with him.

It was a problem. Every time he looked at her he was reminded of more intimate moments they had shared. By the looks he sometimes caught her giving him, he suspected she was having a similar problem. She was flirting shamelessly with Leliana, and sometimes even Zevran, but her heart didn't seem in it, and as far as he knew it hadn't lead to anything more than talk and innuendo, and of course heated blood.

She also seemed to be trying to keep everyone in camp convinced that they were still lovers, just better at being discreet. Or at least lovers again, no one had missed their fights, despite the attempt to keep things private. He wasn't sure why she would bother unless it was her excuse for not inviting someone else to bed with her.

It was puzzling to him. He didn't know if he was supposed to play along or not, but every time she touched him or sat too close he was sure he was blushing furiously, to judge by Morrigan's disdain or Leliana's giggles, yet if he treated her in kind, she drew away and seemed angry with him.

As if summoned by his thoughts of her, she strolled back into camp. Apparently just back from bathing in the freezing stream. She wasn't dressed, not really. She wore an over-long shirt, or maybe an indecently short shift, which was clinging to her curves very damply. And she was walking straight toward him.

"Maker, here we go again," he muttered. He wasn't going to keep putting up with this kind of nonsense, he could already feel his face heating and it was not easy to avoid staring. Well, two could play this game. Maybe that's what she wanted and if not, maybe he could put a stop to her teasing. They were taking a day's rest, so nearly everyone was in camp, but individually occupied. And of course they would all pretend not to be watching...

He rose and swept her into his arms, "Something you need, my dear?" Then he leaned in and kissed her. He didn't mean to kiss her so deeply, but he couldn't help himself. Her lips parted a little and their tongues touched lightly, tentatively. She still didn't pull away so he grasped the back of her head, pulling her deeper into the kiss. She relaxed and her damp body pressed against his. His other hand trailed down her back to rest cupping her nearly-exposed backside. He let the kiss linger a moment longer, then he pinched her, hard. She yelped in surprise and shoved him away.

She looked extremely flustered and Alistair was very pleased with himself, though more than a little flustered himself. It felt so good to touch her, to kiss her again. She tried to recover her composure, "I.. I was going to ask you if you wanted to spar a little this evening. My shield was damaged and I need to get used to the spare I'll be using until it's repaired." She darted a glance around to take stock of who might be within earshot. It was a given that everyone in camp was watching.

Alistair smirked, "Are you asking me if I'll join you for some... swordplay while you're practically naked and very wet? What am I supposed to think you mean? No, wait, I don't care what you mean, I'm up for it. We can go all night if you like." He pointedly leered at her as he teased. He also tried very hard not to think of the rest of their companions listening, probably hanging on every word.

She looked a little angry, but she couldn't entirely hide her amusement either. "If you must know, I was heading to my tent, which you are lounging in front of. I intended to ask you after I dried my hair and remedied my state of undress."

He had actually failed to notice where he'd flopped down, he just found a convenient shady spot to lounge. "Ah. So I am. How'd that get there?" He had a moment of panic when he realized that she hadn't been intending to torment him and he'd just swept her off her feet, kissed and groped her without provocation, but she hadn't seemed to mind. There was a thought. Maybe this was the right way to deal with her after all. "I'll see you in a bit, then? Want help with your armor?"

She raised an eyebrow, unsure if he was baiting her again. She decided to ignore it if he was, "It's so hot, I'd rather not put it on today, let's just use mockups. I just need to accustom myself to the weight and shape of the shield, see what moves I can still pull off with something that bulky." She disappeared into her tent.

-\-

"Oof.. Hold! That's bloody enough," she growled, scowling and rubbing her bruised ribs. When did _Alistair _get faster than her? She'd been having a tough time maneuvering with the larger, heavier shield. Her style relied on finesse and speed as much as on the defensive advantage granted by wielding a shield, and this one was just too heavy. Or she was just too fatigued by this point to keep up with her opponent. Either way, it was slowing her down and she was leaving herself wide open every time she went on offense.

Alistair winced at her tone, "That was a pretty solid hit, are you alright?" His fellow warden had a nasty temper and Ravenna seemed to be getting into a very foul mood. She left herself wide open, again, and he should have pulled the hit a little since he knew it was going to land. For some reason he simply didn't. He was getting frustrated with the sparring session as well.

"Yes, but I'm bruised and tired and this _bloody_ shield is too _bloody_ heavy, it's as big as a flaming barn door!" she didn't mean to complain but she could hardly think straight, for a combination of about half a dozen reasons. Not the least of which was the barrage of blows she _should_ have been able to block, but Alistair's earlier 'teasing' certainly didn't help at all either. She ached for him to kiss her again, to touch her and to share her tent at night, but she didn't feel she deserved that from him. They would only hurt each other, and she didn't know if she could stand to give him up again if they rekindled their relationship.

"Let me take the _bloody_ shield, I'll happily carry it for you if it's so _bloody_ heavy." He teased as he took it from her before she could protest, but the look in her eyes stopped him in his tracks. "I'm sorry about earlier. I thought you were going to... do something like that and I wanted to beat you to it for once. You've been driving me mad, you know." He stepped closer to her and pushed a lock of dark hair out of her eyes. "I can't stop thinking about you, about us," he whispered. He leaned closer and his fingers traced her jaw, softly pressing to bring her gaze up to his, "I love you, Ravenna." Then he kissed her.

Again, he meant it to be a short, sweet kiss, but she didn't try to end it, so he didn't either. He dropped their gear so he could draw her closer. He slid his hands along her back and he shivered when she slipped her hands under his shirt to stroke his chest. One hand steadily slid lower, over his hip and then between his legs to gently caress him. He moaned and pressed against her.

She pulled away a little and then more forcefully when he didn't let her go. "It seems a bit more like lust. We're not doing this." She didn't want to stop, but she couldn't let this happen. She loved the man and she didn't know what else to do about it but keep him away from her. But his arms around her felt so maker-damned good. She didn't want to push him away just yet.

He gazed into her eyes and tried to understand what she wanted, why she was doing this, "I want you so badly I ache, but that's not all this is. Give us another chance. You have to know I love you..."

She drew a shuddering breath, she did know. "Let me go. I don't want to do this."

"But you do want to, you just _won't_, Maker knows why." He didn't let go, he drew her closer, intending to kiss her again.

She tensed, "Are you going to try to force the issue, Alistair?"

He blinked in surprise and dropped his arms to his sides, stepping back. "How could you even think that? I could never..." He couldn't even finish the sentence.

She felt the moment unraveling, every trace of a second chance slipping away from her. Alistair was right. She knew it and suddenly she knew she'd been a fool for fearing his betrayal or rejection. "Of course I don't think that of you," she paused, reluctant to say more, "but maybe if you did... perhaps I'd have gotten the point sooner." She twined her fingers into his hair and drew his face to hers for another kiss, "I can't keep telling you no. Lust aside and despite how foolish it may be, it seems I want to love you." She kissed him and waited for her words to sink in. Either she had offended him or stunned him, he wasn't really kissing her back. She decided to trust him. She would let him decide whether she was good enough for him or not and she would trust that he meant what he said when he claimed he loved her.

He pulled away. Her heart sank. Not good enough after all, she thought. He was looking at her, trying to understand what had just happened. She met his eyes, and, in them, he must have seen some of the longing she felt for him. He held himself away from her, his hands at his sides, "Kiss me again if you mean that," he commanded.

He had to know if she meant it, if he'd understood correctly. She didn't hesitate to obey his command, and she was passionate. That was all the invitation he needed. He returned the kiss, parting her lips with his tongue as he bore her to the ground. He caught her lip in his teeth and bit her lightly. She was his, he wouldn't let her doubt that again.


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's note: The next few chapters cover what happens when the Warden is captured and held in Fort Drakon. If you have delicate sensibilities, you may not wish to read. Reviews would be greatly appreciated. Thanks to all who have favorited, it makes my day and I'm glad I can write something that's enjoyed by at least a few people. :)_

"Warden! In the name of the regent, I am placing you under arrest for the murder of Rendon Howe and his men-at-arms. Surrender, and you may be shown mercy."

Ravenna looked around the room. It was quite a thorough ambush. It had been a long time since she had considered the political motives of those she dealt with. Even in Orzammar she paid little attention to the political situation and simply had done what was needed to get Bhelen on the throne. It was nearly shameful, as a Teryn's daughter, to be so reckless. Her need for vengeance on Howe had made her careless, as had her short-sighted assumption that others would see Howe as the viper she knew him to be.

Leliana was out of her sight, but Morrigan and Zevran stood at the ready, waiting for her word to begin slaughtering the guards who stood between them and freedom. They were all weary and had come into the situation ill-prepared for this kind of battle, they expected to sneak in and sneak out with minimal conflict. "Hold," she said softly to her comrades.

"Let the others go and I will stand down. You don't know the whole story." She waited for a nod from Ser Cauthrien, then dropped her sword and shield. She turned her head slightly to Zev and dropped her voice to a bare whisper, "I'm sorry. Tell the others and do what you can without me." She stepped forward and allowed herself to be restrained.

-\-

That first night, four guards entered the cage-like cell, they'd clearly been drinking and Ravenna had no illusions about what they intended with her. She fought them like a cornered beast, Which was far too close to the truth, but they easily overpowered her. She choked back a sob of despair as they dragged her from her cell.

She tried again to break free, tossing her elbow into the guard on her right's face. There was a sickening crunch and a somewhat muffled cry of pain. She whirled to the left, reaching for the guard's sword. She got it half-way out of its sheath before the guard in front landed a blow. It felt like he struck her with the pommel of his sword or dagger, but his aim was bad, and the blow landed on her shoulder, partially stunning her sword arm.

The guard she was disarming locked his arm around hers, preventing her from completing the draw. That was essentially the end of her resistance. They pinned her limbs and the guard with the broken nose took his revenge, slamming his fists repeatedly into her ribs and stomach. He drove the breath from her and she felt at least one rib crack. Tears came to her eyes, but she couldn't make a sound more than a choking gasp.

The guards laughed and the one with the broken nose spat in her face. "Get her to one of the rooms, this isn't what we're here for. Marten, got those irons with you?"

Marten nodded, "Right here. She won't slip 'em and pull that again." The cuffs were snapped around her wrists and latched before he finished speaking. They were rough iron and bit painfully into her skin.

Broken-nose leaned in close, she could smell garlic and the foulness of rotting teeth on his breath, "You should have gone for someone else. They might execute you before the week's out, but by the time that happens, you'll be praying for it, whore."

She felt like she was about to shatter. Panic was overtaking her. Just as she was about to give in to it, time seemed to stand still. She felt strangely detached and realized that she'd reached a moment of decision. She could let this destroy her, probably for the rest of her life even if she wasn't executed for Howe's so-called murder, or she could let it wash over her as if it were nothing. It was a simple matter of choice. She banished the panic, the fear, and the hurt from her. She would not be able to save herself, but she didn't have to cling to anything they did to her. She didn't have to keep it, and she wouldn't.

She barked a laugh, startling her captors. "Whore, am I? Well, if you intend to pay, let's talk price. I'm obviously in a poor position to haggle, but better than you've ever had so how's ..."

Broken-nose smashed his fist into her face, one, two, three times, "Shut your smart mouth, bitch. Jeban, get that door."

The blows dazed her. Jeban unlocked a door just up the corridor and she was dragged to it and thrown to the stone floor before she regained her senses. She had been nearly stripped when she was brought to the prison, and the drunk guards made short work of what remained. She was hauled to her feet by her hair and shoved her over a table in the corner. Ravenna tried to distance herself from what was happening, she hadn't the heart to invite more abuse merely for the sake of her pride. As she closed inward, she tried to believe that she was strong enough to survive.

-/-

Finally they brought her back to the cage. They threw her limp form to the cold stones of the floor with no more regard than they would have given to a sack of refuse. She fell hard and groaned in pain as they slammed the door shut. She couldn't tell if she was actually awake, actually moving, but she was cold, so she tried to drag herself over to the straw and ragged blanket in the back corner. There was another prisoner in the cage next to hers, he was speaking, but she couldn't make herself understand. It didn't matter anyway, he couldn't help her, only Zev could tell Alistair, only he would come save her. She nearly sobbed when she thought of that. No one will come, I surrendered. They think I'm alright, she thought, giving in to her fate.

-\-

One of the guards from the night shift came to her cage, but now there was daylight in the prison. Jeban, she remembered, the one with the keys. There were others with him, some didn't look like guards, one was dressed in an unusually cut black tunic, nearly an apron. "You've been charged with the murder of Arl Rendon Howe and his men-at-arms. You will confess to this crime and be sentenced."

She didn't answer. It seemed like they were simply stating the obvious. She had surrendered when charged with the crime, so no contest there, she was merely awaiting a trial so she could bring to light Howe's treachery.

It dawned on her as Jeban unlocked her cell, they weren't going to give her any kind of trial. After what they did last night she should have known, the guards wouldn't dare abuse a prisoner, rape a _noble_, if there was any chance of their crimes becoming public. Nothing to lose then, she thought. They're here for an execution. She drew herself up, "Howe was a traitorous, lying murderer and he deserved his death and worse! The Couslands are dead at his orders, his men-at-arms slaughtered my family in their beds."

The strangely-dressed man frowned. "I was told you believed your guilt. You must sign these documents stating that your crime was motivated by your treasonous desire to undermine the Queen and the Regent."

"Obviously I will not. You can execute me now, if that's what you're here for." She was ready to end this, there was no chance she would walk out of Fort Drakon alive and she didn't want to draw out her suffering. Ravenna felt strangely calm, almost like she was dead already, realizing she was accepting the sentence of execution without hope of mercy or rescue. She had the insane urge to laugh, it was almost a relief, knowing it was all finally over. Several guards entered her cell and she did nothing to resist, nor assist them.

"Take her to my workroom. She must sign, so she shall." The leather-clad man stated in a voice that was eerily quiet. He had a strange half-grin on his face that chilled her blood as she was practically carried from her cell.

Ravenna screamed. Why would they not kill her? The torturer, she should have realized that's what he was the moment she laid eyes on him, had been 'working' on her for what seemed like an eternity. He was holding a cherry-red brand of iron to her side, slowly dragging it toward her hip. She was covered in her own blood, missing some of her fingernails, and now this. The torturer lifted the brand away, frowning slightly. She could be grateful he hadn't decided to use any of the cruelest devices at his disposal yet, but she suspected that was what his frown heralded.

"This is becoming absurd. You merely need sign these documents admitting your guilt and condemning the treason of the Gray Wardens at Ostagar and you will be allowed a clean death." He waited for an answer. Ravenna met his eyes and stared.

She wanted to sign, if only to end it, but no doubt the confession included statements that would allow them to arrest, possibly execute all who stood with her. "No. Keep hurting me, I'll die soon either way." She couldn't keep denying him. She knew she was going to die, but why, Maker, did she have to suffer so much before then? Ravenna sobbed as he thrust the brand back into the fire to heat again and turned to his table of instruments.

"So be it. Perhaps something more... disfiguring will convince you. I understand the Couslands were rather vain and prideful..." He selected a wickedly sharp cleaver and returned to her side. Her arms were secured by leather straps to the table above her head. She flinched away as he drew close to her face. "Open your hand and hold still, I only want one finger at a time, if you squirm I may miss."

Terror filled her and she reflexively struggled against her bonds. Her tormenter frowned, "Obey and lose a finger or fight and lose the hand." He drew the knife back, and she stilled. She had no doubt he would do as he said. She was meat on the block to him. She opened her hand and screamed. She felt the knife fall, it jarred her whole arm as it severed two fingers. At least two. She clenched her fist and felt bone scrape against her palm amid a spray of blood. Horror broke into near hysteria as she lost consciousness.


	5. Chapter 5

Ravenna woke on the cold stone floor of her cell. She could hardly move, where she was not numb from cold she was nothing but pain. There were sounds of fighting nearby, coming closer, perhaps. She forced her battered body to move, she would not die lying on the floor. Some of her wounds had been roughly dressed, her hand... she fought a wave of nausea as it came back to her. Her fingers...

She prodded her bandage-wrapped shield hand. It hurt but it didn't seem to hurt _enough_. She didn't want to believe he'd actually maimed her. Weariness and despair overwhelmed her. What did it matter if her hand was halved? She was dead already, she just had to suffer a little more before she rejoined her murdered family.

She trembled as she unwound the bandage from her shield hand and bit back a cry of pain as she yanked it away from the scabbed wounds. Ravenna stared at her hand. Tearing the bandages off re-opened the wounds. Her smallest finger was severed at the middle joint. Obviously either he hadn't aimed well or he didn't care if he took off half her fingers. The next two over were also missing, clearly from the same cut. Her middle finger was nearly whole, only missing from just below the top joint, and her ring finger neatly bridged the difference between the two.

She felt giddy, it was almost unreal. It didn't feel like her hand was missing parts of three fingers. If she was still, it felt like she'd merely slammed her hand in a door. Throbbingly painful, certainly, but not partially absent. She noticed how much she was bleeding and began to re-wrap what was left of her hand. They left my other hand alone so I could sign, she thought dazedly.

Someone ran into the room outside her cell, "Thank the maker, you're alright!"

Ravenna almost couldn't register the familiar voice, "Alistair, you're here? Zev." Terror for her friends and shame for herself washed over her. "Please tell me you can get out of here. They'll hurt you, kill you for trying to help me."

She half believed it was either a cruel trick or that she was dreaming. She couldn't allow herself to hope that this nightmare might be over. Then she realized what it might mean to have to try to continue to live after this and despair nearly overwhelmed her.

Alistair was taken aback. "Did they... We're getting you out. Do you know where they put your gear?" They'd passed tortured corpses on their way in, he was so relieved to see her alive. But now that he looked closer it was plain that she hadn't escaped unscathed.

Zevran cursed as he noticed the evidence of maltreatment and hurried to open the cell door. "Forget the armor. Strip one of the guards, kill him if he starts to wake up, they deserve no better for being party to this." Alistair nodded grimly and hurried back the way they came. The lock clicked and Zevran yanked the door open, "Come, we must leave quickly." Concern etched his face and he reached his hand toward Ravenna, wisely not entering the cell.

She grabbed for his hand and staggered toward him. "You have to get out, both of you. I'll slow you down." She drew a deep breath and forced herself to meet his eyes. She dropped her voice, "My friend, give me a knife and leave, I can hardly walk." The thought of trying to struggle on, trying to live with these memories and these scars was too much to bear. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks before she could quell them. "Zev, you know what they did. Don't make me live with it."

He swore under his breath. The desperation in her voice nearly broke his heart, she did not deserve this, but he could not do as she asked. "They will pay for what they did to you, _mia cara_, but I cannot let you die. Come, we can carry you and they will not catch us."

She stifled a sob, "No, please! You said you would be loyal..."

Alistair returned with some clothing and what looked like Ravenna's gear. She hurried to clear the tears from her face. "Found your things on the way back, love. No time to put it all on, but we needn't leave it." He helped her don an over-large shirt, pants and her boots. Alistair was about to hand her swordbelt to her when Zevran took it from him.

"She can hardly stand. You must carry her." Zev explained. "I will clear the way for you. If you hear fighting ahead of you, set her down and aid me."

"If she might be alone, she should have her blade with her." Alistair would not have chosen Zevran to accompany him on this rescue attempt, but the Crow would not accept 'no' for an answer, and the ability to pick locks and move stealthily were strong recommendations for him, but why was the assassin trying to keep Ravenna disarmed?

"'She' is still right here, you bastards. Give me something to defend myself with." There was more than a hint of desperation in her voice.

Zevran quirked a smile at her, "She will not need it," he stated with finality as he slipped into the shadows and hurried down the corridor that lead to their freedom. Zevran still had her weapon.

"What was that about?" Alistair carefully swept her into his arms. She whimpered in pain and was trembling slightly. She seemed so fragile and broken.

When she didn't say anything he continued, "He's right though, Rave, you won't need it. No one here will lay another finger on you, love." He was pretty sure she wouldn't be able defend herself even with a weapon. He hadn't realized how hurt she was. Some of the wounds had been bandaged, he wondered how severe they were. He tried to move smoothly and to avoid jostling her as he ran down corridors empty of all but corpses with their throats cut, or their guts spilled across the floor. Zevran was _killing _everyone in their path. On the way in, they'd been trying to merely disable.

Why would he start killing every one of them now? He had a chilling realization. Alistair tried to recall the marks he saw on her body before she had been able to cover herself. He couldn't remember clearly, she had obviously been tortured though. If they were willing to do that, they must not have been worried about what she might say in a public hearing. They must have been planning to execute her without a trial, which meant they had no reason to refrain from _any_ sort of abuse. He swore, the realization making him see red. Quick death was too good for any of the scum who knew what was going on in this forsaken hellhole.

-/-

They made it back to Arl Eamon's estate. Alistair insisted that someone be with Ravenna at all times, even as she bathed, even when she slept, at least for a while, despite her repeated requests to be alone. Zevran seemed to approve of his decision. Alistair wondered what happened while he was retrieving Ravenna's gear that Zev was so adamant about not letting her have her blade, but he could guess the reason for his insistence. Leliana and Wynne were with her now, Morrigan just came to tell him that she was decent. "I don't think she wants visitors, not even you."

Too bad. He didn't say anything to the witch, wanting to be by Ravenna's side half an hour ago.

The women scowled at him when he entered without knocking. Wynne was still working to heal the damage. There was little she could do for missing digits, and apparently much of the scarring from the burns was too much for her to deal with at once. He waited until she was done and Leliana helped the drained mage exit. "She has been through so much. You must be understanding." Leliana quietly told him, then left the room.

Alistair hesitated, not wanting to hurt Ravenna or make her feel threatened, but decided it would kill him to retreat away from her, so he sat next to her and put his arm around her. She stiffened a little, so he froze. After a moment she sighed and shifted to lean against his side. "Don't know how I'll be able to hold my shield with half a hand." Her voice was bleak and lacked inflection. He didn't know what to say so he just held her.

She drew a shuddering breath. "I didn't think anyone would come. I didn't want anyone to, after..." She couldn't finish. She didn't want to talk about any of it. Maker damn them for leaving scars and wounds she couldn't simply forget about. "They might as well have killed me." She had no more tears for herself. She didn't want to feel anything anymore. In a way, they had killed her.

"Never say that!" He pulled her closer, then he realized tears were flowing down his cheeks and into her hair, but he couldn't stop. He vowed to himself that he would destroy Logain for allowing this to happen. "They'll pay, dearheart. I'm so sorry I couldn't stop them."


	6. Chapter 6

They were thorough, she was willing to give them that. Her companions had not allowed her more than a few moments of solitude, and certainly no unsupervised access to a blade or anything else deadly. It shamed her that everyone she traveled with must know more details of her captivity than she chose to impart to them. Some things were private, or should be. Ravenna thought it was probably Alistair's doing, but at Zevran's subtle manipulation.

Despite how much the Warden proclaimed his distaste for the crow-trained assassin, it seemed that Zevran found it easy to make him act on his suggestions and subtle prodding. She didn't know if anyone else noticed. Probably not. She certainly knew Alistair better than anyone they traveled with and she didn't find Zev that difficult to read, they were alarmingly alike in many ways. She scowled when she thought of the elf. It was his doing, one way or another. She'd trusted him, needed him, and he laughed in her face. And now he was avoiding facing her.

Zevran was lounging in a tree in the courtyard, toying with one of his many knives. The spot just happened to have a convenient view of Ravenna's window. He knew he could not avoid his Warden forever. He hoped that she would calm down before she cornered him, but it didn't seem that was going to happen. Their conversation would not be easy, and may possibly turn violent.

She had reason to be angry with him, in a sense he truly had betrayed her trust. He hoped he could make things right between them, he had promised her she wouldn't need the mercy blade she begged him for. He was not a praying man, but he offered one now to whatever deity cared to listen that he would be able to find a way to keep that promise. The Crows used torture to break their initiates, to ensure loyalty of a kind. He knew what a broken will looked like. The warden had accepted her death long before they came to save her. And the hurts and mistreatment she had suffered, he shook his head, it would have been too much for nearly any woman to live with, especially one who had been broken.

The thought of strong, shining Ravenna suffering such a fate put an uncomfortable lump in his throat and made him wish he could be certain everyone responsible had been taken care of. No, he would do all he could to bring her back to herself. He sheathed the knife, reaching a decision. He had survived his initiation to the Crows, he could show her how to remake herself. He lightly jumped from his perch and rolled to break his fall. It was time to let her find him.

Ravenna was looking out the window when Zevran left his perch. Her eyes narrowed, realizing he must have had a clear view of her room from there. No wonder he'd been impossible to catch alone. "Leliana, I'm going outside. Zev is there, I'll be fine." She hurried out of the room without waiting for any response from the bard. Alistair and Eamon were arguing, their muffled voices were audible in the hall. It was good that Alistair was willing to speak his mind, finally. She hoped they wouldn't turn to her to make decisions about their politics. She intended to do her duty and end the blight, then no one would have a hold on her any longer. Ravenna hurried past the partially closed door, hoping they wouldn't chance to see her. She'd been trying to avoid Alistair. She didn't know what to say to him. He always acted so _sympathetic_ now, she couldn't enjoy his attempts at romance and he really didn't understand. Ravenna could tell it was frustrating him and she didn't have the energy to argue anymore.

She half-jogged to the courtyard, expecting Zev to be long gone. Instead, he was waiting for her. "Someplace more private, Ravenna?" When she nodded he turned to lead her to a more secluded spot. There was a place on the wall that would serve well, if they kept their voices low.

"You've been avoiding me." She didn't want to wait, they were walking quickly, but she feared someone would spot them and Zev would take the opportunity to slip away again.

"Yes, I have. But come, we are nearly there." Zevran didn't like the tone she was using. She was hostile and angry. There was little of the woman who was his friend in evidence. He held the door to the battlements open for her, then locked it behind them. No doubt the key was easily acquired by anyone who had any right to be up there, but at least it would give them some warning. "There. Now we are alone, _mia cara_."

Ravenna grew concerned for a moment when she realized he was locking the door behind them, then she forced herself to relax. He had not been avoiding her for days to now lure her into a trap. Now that she had the opportunity to speak privately, she found herself struggling to form her questions. Just start somewhere, she told herself, "Why did you tell everyone, Zev? I trusted _you_ with this..."

His brow furrowed slightly, "It is at your lover's word that you are never alone. He holds himself to blame for your capture. If he suspected you meant yourself harm from my actions," Zevran shrugged, "Well, it is true, is it not? How was I to conceal your intent?"

She didn't know what to say. It changed little. She sighed, "I suppose it doesn't matter. And it isn't the worst shame I've suffered. You said I wouldn't need the blade. It sounded like you meant I wouldn't want it." The last was said with such longing, he hoped he would not let her down.

"So I hope." He leaned against the wall, "It is said in Antiva that you may dress a fish as finely as a noble, but you cannot teach it to dance."

She frowned, "Believe it or not, I've heard that one before."

"Ah, then you must know it is true."

"It's nonsense. Antivans are eccentric..."

He chuckled, "That, also, is true of course. But suppose it had meaning, _carina_. A fish will not dance, but if it should, it would not be to the credit of his tailor."

Ravenna was growing frustrated, she finally cornered him and he was talking about a fish wearing a dress! "Stop toying with me, you owe me more than that, Zev!"

Zevran sighed, how much more plainly could he put this? Fereldans were not a subtle folk. The direct approach, then. "We have spoken of some of the things Crow apprentices are subjected to. Breaking candidates with torture and humiliation is how they ensure loyalty. So, you see, I have some experience..."

"That's all you have for me?" Ravenna interrupted angrily, "The Crows abuse their own, and look at you, you're fine so what's my problem?" Her voice was rising and she was clenching her hands at her sides. She could feel tears threatening to spill and it made her want to hit the man in front of her. "Very well. I will do my duty as best I can." Clenching her fist reminded her, yet again, of the damage done to her.

Her tone and volume may not have gone unnoticed, the estate was rather small. Zevran hoped they would not be interrupted too swiftly, _"Adoravana_, that is not what I meant." He hesitated, not wanting to make her feel threatened, but decided he must do something to get her to _hear_ him. He placed his hand on her shoulder as she was turning away. She tensed, almost imperceptibly, but didn't draw away so he pulled her close.

"There was a moment when your pain and fear seemed distant, was there not? A moment when you decided you would not let yourself be defined by what was done to you. You would not be as much yourself at this moment if you had not the strength to make that decision when you faced that moment. You have another choice to make, Ravenna. You expected to die in Fort Drakon, in many ways you did. You must decide if you wish to live instead." She accepted comfort from him, but didn't respond to his words. He allowed this, he would not press her for a response.

"Perhaps a thing cannot be other than what it is, and absolutely not by another's hand." He hadn't intended to state the concept so directly, but he wasn't certain she would understand the absurd metaphor he used moments ago and he believed someone was trying the locked door.

Ravenna listened, she felt perhaps she was beginning to understand Zev's strange attempt to lead her to a way to move on. "You seemed certain I would not need that blade, but I find I want it as badly now as I did when I first asked it of you." Her voice was quiet, with more than a hint of bitterness. "But now I know I won't use it.. I surely would have, and I can't thank you for denying me, but that moment has passed."

Ravenna allowed herself a moment longer in his embrace, then pulled away. "This is not the first time I've been remade in this manner. The first time it took me three years to let a man close enough to touch me. My parents had to have me trained to fight, to be able to kill to protect myself before I could master my fear enough to leave the places in my home that were most familiar to me. And even that wasn't enough. Being a woman is a sore disadvantage in a physical confrontation. I _knew_ someone could beat me if he were big enough, or brutal enough, or if he caught me off guard. So Mother hired a specialist to teach me to read people, to manipulate. She taught me how to use men's desires against them, as well as how to master my own. I doubt my father realized what sort of woman I was being trained by."

Zevran dared not speak, Ravenna seemed to be lost in the story she was telling and he dearly wanted her to continue. She was so closed about her past, he suspected she had not chosen to share these details with anyone else. He prayed that whomever was trying to find them would not know who had the necessary key...

"I thought I was in love with her," Ravenna mused, "When rumors of _that_ started circulating, my tutor was dismissed, but the lessons she taught were well-learned." She stopped, a little surprised at what she found herself saying. Well, it couldn't be more humiliating than what Zev already knew of her. She gauged the elf's reaction to her sudden openness and decided to continue. "She was from Antiva, a woman who trained courtesans, and probably common whores, of course. She said I was a terrible student, no patience and no sense of artistry." Ravenna studied him for a moment, "None of that surprises you, does it?"

"Why should it? Although I do not believe she truly thought you a terrible student, _mia cara_. Or perhaps you have practiced and improved on the skills she imparted." He raised an eyebrow and smirked at her, it was not the time to turn this conversation into a seduction, but given such an opening, the temptation was strong. Zevran knew she would turn him down, but the game was reward enough in itself, at least under normal circumstances.

"In all seriousness, _carina_, you are needed now. It is not fair, it is not just, it is not even reasonable, but it remains true." She was looking over the wall of the estate, into the city. He moved to stand close by her side. "And I am your man, as ever. Would you have me convince your fellow warden you are no longer a danger to yourself?"

"Tell me where my sword is, I'll do it myself."

He smiled, it seemed perhaps she did not wish to remain broken after all. "It is in the armory of course, I shall fetch it for you. You may wish to consider what is to be done about Anora and the Landsmeet, I believe your fellow warden is quite lost without your guidance." He could hear they key turning in the lock, though Ravenna seemed to hear nothing. His time was up. He cupped her chin and turned her to face him so he could brush a kiss to her lips as the door opened. She seemed a little startled, but not offended. He couldn't help but smirk a little.

Alistair had been trying to catch up with Ravenna since he saw her breeze past Eamon's study. Eamon didn't let him abandon the conversation, however, so he ended up several minutes behind her. He'd almost given up searching for her when he heard her voice raised in anger. It took several more minutes before he figured out where it was coming from, how to get there, and that 'there' was behind a locked door. The key was in the possession of the head servant, and by the time he was able to open the door he had worked himself into a near frenzy of worry. At least he knew she wasn't alone.

The door was opened, too slowly, and he brushed past the elven servant wielding the master key. He stepped out onto the battlement just in time to see Ravenna _kissing_ the assassin. "...shall be waiting in your room for you." Alistair couldn't just barely make out what the elf was saying, his stomach flipped and he clenched his fists at his sides. Zevran smirked and walked straight toward him. "Warden," he greeted with a nod. Alistair wanted to throttle the smug son-of-a-whore, but he wouldn't do it in front of Ravenna. He waited for the door to close. He looked up to see Ravenna frowning at him. She's wondering how much of that I saw. Maker, how could she do this to me again?

Alistair looked like he wanted to kill someone, or perhaps like he was about to be sick. Maybe both. He must have seen that, she thought. Zev gets his fun and I have to deal with Alistair's hurt feelings and moral indignation. "Alistair, we were just talking about you. Zev's gone to find my sword."

"Were you?" He bit off the accusation he was dying to fling at her.

She sighed. Perhaps if she just got to business she wouldn't have to fight this battle yet. She brushed past him, heading back to the rest of the estate. "Yes. I've taken too long... recovering. You've done well without me, but we need to get organized and plan our next move."


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's Note: This chapter is the first of a few that will reveal some of Ravenna's past. Thanks to everyone who's added this story to favorites lists or alerts. It makes my day. Know what else would make my day? Reviews! Come on, now. It doesn't have to be nice, I'm really looking for feedback of any kind. Thanks and enjoy._

Ravenna waited in her room. She was certain Alistair would show up soon, she was a little surprised he hadn't already. She sighed wearily, not wanting to have to go looking for him. A little longer, she reasoned. He'll be here soon, and probably as upset with me as he's ever been. She was sitting in a chair by the over-large window. Denerim didn't provide the best of views, but the sunset was breathtaking. There was no fire lit in the fireplace, though the nights were starting to grow cold enough to warrant one. This time of year always drew her into painful memories. She allowed her thoughts to drift and found herself wondering if she would ever be able to share more of her past with Alistair, or if she would truly be alone with her memories the rest of her life.

-\-

Harvest feast was but a few nights away, and Ravenna was excited. She was finally old enough to attend the feast and festivities of the holiday with an escort. Ravenna knew what some people thought of her, that since she tried so hard to be a _proper_ lady, she must be stuck up and arrogant. She suspected her own family thought her too prideful for the request she was bursting to make of her recently-returned father. She'd been asked to attend the feast with a boy from Highever Town, and she couldn't wait to receive permission. Father would be proud of her for not being too proud, and when he met Torrin, he would see that even though he wasn't nobility he was good and kind enough that he should be.

Bryce Cousland had just returned home from patrolling with the Highever guard. It was a task he insisted a Cousland should take part in whenever possible. Soon, he would be willing to send Fergus with the guards on his own, perhaps even as commander, but for now it meant Bryce was often on patrol. With the harvest underway he had too much to do and the prospect of a son to take some of the burden was a welcome thought. By next year, perhaps. He was tired, and he could see Elanor was trying to discourage Ravenna from 'pestering' him but he surely had energy to give his daughter the attention she was seeking. "You look fit to burst, Pup." He swept her into his arms for a hug, and kissed her cheek, "What's on your mind, sweetheart?"

"Oh, Father, it's the Harvest festival! I want so much to go with Torrin. You haven't met him, I don't think, but his father's a carpenter in Highever. He asked me if I could go with him when he was here on a delivery. He said I was the prettiest girl he'd ever spoken to and I know he's a commoner, but he's smart and kind and much more gallant than any other boy my age. Please, may I go with Torrin?"

"What's this? My pretty pup wants to be seen on the arm of a boy from town? What about Thomas Howe?"

Ravenna pouted, "Thomas doesn't even like me, last time he was here he stole my hair ribbons and wanted to do nothing but practice swordplay and things just like Fergus. Please, Father, don't make me go with him, I want to go with Torrin from town."

"Sweetling, it would not be appropriate for you to be escorted by Torrin, but you may invite him to the festivities at the keep, and you may even invite him to attend the feast in the main hall."

Father clearly didn't understand how serious her request was, on top of that she hated being called "pup". It didn't make sense and it surely didn't suit her. Father knew it, but he still always used the silly nickname, even when there were people listening. She stole a glance at her brother to see if he was laughing at her. It seemed like he was trying hard not to. Tears began to prickle at her eyes and she felt herself blushing.

"There now, lovely girl. No need for that." her father soothed when he realized the pout on his daughter's face was about to give way to tears. Where did this fragile little creature come from? Her mother was tough and fierce in her way (yet not unladylike, never that), yet this daughter was as dainty and delicate as they came. It left him feeling like a blundering fool, though he loved her dearly and tried his best to please her. "I'll give it some thought, and speak to your mother about it." Her face lit up and he sternly amended, "That is not permission, young lady. Until you hear otherwise, you are going with Thomas, or without an escort."

She threw her arms around him, "Thank you, Father. I know you'll like Torrin as much as I do, I can't wait until you meet him." She beamed at him, clearly she thought she had already won.

-\-

Despite her sense of triumph, she was not allowed to attend the Harvest festivities with Torrin. She was hardly able to see him at all, and Torrin seemed to be a little upset with her. Ravenna had always been a good girl and a dutiful daughter, she never disobeyed and rarely even wanted to, but she began scheming for ways she could see Torrin more than for a few moments when he made deliveries. She wasn't even sure what he was delivering, to be honest, and she was simply glad the guards kept letting him into Highever Keep.

With Torrin's encouragement, she was able to find a way out of the keep. And it was just in time, too. Torrin told her that his father was no longer going to be employed by the Couslands, so obviously he wouldn't be able to come to see her anymore.

The first snow of the season had fallen, so she dressed warmly. She even packed a few things to eat and a small bottle of last year's cider. Father would be very cross if she was caught, it was _entirely_ inappropriate for her to be planning to spend the day with Torrin unchaperoned, and she wasn't allowed to drink more than one watered cup of wine or cider with dinner on special occasions. Torrin was worth the risk, though. He was handsome and strong and she thought he probably was in love with her.

It was easy to filch the cider and other things, her way out was a tunnel that opened in the larder. She quickly made her way out of the hidden passage. She kept the location of the exit secret even from Torrin, giving away that secret was far worse than sneaking out with a boy and drinking cider. She was going to meet him at a shepherds' cottage not far away. It was abandoned this time of year, so they would have shelter and privacy.

Her stomach was fluttering and she had never been so nervous, except maybe sometimes when she was studying the Chant of Light and she thought about how great and powerful the Maker must be, but that was a different kind of nervous.

She wondered if Torrin would want to kiss her today. Even just thinking about that made her blush. She hoped she wouldn't disappoint him. Before she knew it, she was at the door of the cottage. There was a thin curl of smoke rising from the chimney. She didn't know if she should knock or not, but she decided she must in case it wasn't Torrin within.

She removed her mitten and rapped on the door three times. The door opened almost immediately, and Torrin was there grinning at her with his crooked smile and his dark hair falling into his eyes. The butterflies in her stomach started fluttering even more, but she didn't feel nervous now, just excited. He was so handsome, this was going to be such a perfect day.

Inside the cottage it was warm, they sat on a blanket spread on the floor, for the cottage had little furniture. They shared the food she brought along and sipped at cider straight from the bottle, they talked about all sorts of things. Torrin sat very close to her and told her how pretty she was. After a few sips from the bottle he stole a kiss. It was every bit as delightful as she hoped, and soon they weren't talking much, just kissing. Eventually she realized she was feeling a bit dizzy and starting to get sleepy. "Tor, I think I need to go home. They'll miss me if I'm not back before dinner..."

He smiled at her strangely, "Ray, it's been hours. I think you're late already, and I don't think you could find your way back in the dark."

"Oh dear! Mother will never let me out of her sight again, I have to get back... Oh!" She tried to stand up too quickly and tumbled back to the floor. The cider really had gone to her head, how would she find the passage entrance when she couldn't even stand up? Tears prickled at her eyes, what a mess she'd made of things.

"You can stay here with me, when you're feeling better you can go back. Your family is too controlling, they deserve to be taught a lesson, don't you think? They can't tell you who's good enough for you and who's not, can they?" His voice seemed harsh, and it frightened her a little, but she told herself it was just that he didn't like how people always tried to tell her what to do. He was trying to protect her, that was a good thing.

"Do you think so, Torrin? Could I really stay here for a while longer?" She had misgivings about letting her family worry, but she didn't want to leave and she didn't know if she could get back the way she came on her own, and she still couldn't let him find out about the tunnel. If he thought it was alright to stay a little longer, she would trust that it was.

Torrin put his arms around her, "Of course you can, Ray. I can even think of a few ways to pass the time." He grinned roguishly and kissed her. "We could do a lot more than kissing, you know," his arms tightened a little and he kissed her again. His hands started sliding to places that brought blushes to her cheeks.

She shoved him away, "Oh, no! We can't, Tor. I shouldn't even be kissing someone like you, but..."

"Someone like me, is it?" His expression changed, he looked mean and very angry, "Nevermind. Stay here, I'm going outside for a bit."

Tears spilled down her face as he slammed the door. She'd spoiled everything! If only Mother and Father hadn't always been so, so smothering, she would have known what to do so Torrin wouldn't be so mad right now. She didn't know what to do. Everyone was upset with her now, Tor probably wouldn't want to see her again even if she ever could sneak away after this. She tried to stop crying, but she couldn't so she just gave in to it.

Torrin was gone long enough that the fire in the hearth died to embers and her tears ran out. She was about to get up and try to go home when she heard boots crunching in the new snow outside the cottage. The windows were all shuttered and it was dark outside, so she had no idea who was out there, but there was more than one person. Suddenly she was frightened. She was all alone and no one knew where she was except Tor. She heard muffled whispers, and straining her ears she thought she recognized Torrin's voice. He was saying something about a debt... his father's debt getting paid. She couldn't make out anything else.

The footsteps came closer and someone opened the door. Torrin poked his head in and flashed her a huge grin, "Good, you're still here. I'm so sorry I got mad, I was afraid you'd leave before I got back." He was talking too loudly and his grin looked frightening, like a wolf smiling at you before he eats you, she thought.

Her voice was small and trembling, "Everything's alright then? I... I thought I heard you talking to someone."

His grin faltered for a split second. "Nonsense, just practicing how to apologize to you. I was such a dolt. Can you forgive me, Ray?"

"Oh. Well, yes. I need to go home now though. You were gone so long..."

He had a bottle of something with him, he was opening it now, "Alright, have some of this first and I'll take you back, it'll keep you warm on your walk."

She didn't want to drink anything more, but she couldn't think of an excuse. Just a little sip won't hurt, then he'll let me go home. The liquid burned her mouth and throat, then even her stomach and it left a sour, bitter tang in her mouth after. She coughed and choked on it. "That's awful!" She could hardly work her mouth around the words and the world was tilting and spinning. She looked up at Torrin, hoping he would help her, but he was glaring at her. He opened the door and several strange, ragged men came into the cottage.

"There, she drank it. Her family's probably noticed she's missing so you better move her quick."

"Nice work, lad. It ain't so hard to dupe a naive little girl, but you done well. Pretty thing, too, ain't she?"

She went cold with fear at their words and tried to get up, run away, anything, but her limbs wouldn't work together and she couldn't feel her hands and feet very well.

Torrin shuffled his feet, "Deal's done then?"

She couldn't see anymore, but the voice that replied was the same that had just spoken, "Yep, tell yer da t'move on, but his debt to us is paid."

"Fine. Take her and go. I'll make sure she didn't leave anything here." She wanted to shout, to beg Torrin not to give her to these bandits, but her body wouldn't work, she couldn't even move her fingers or toes. At least she didn't think she could. She could hardly think from the drink Torrin gave her and panic was making her heart race.

Someone hauled her up by her clothing and threw her over his shoulder, the motion was too much for her to handle and she blacked out.


	8. Chapter 8

Ravenna's wrists and ankles were raw and swollen from being tied for so long. It must have been several days, she thought. The men who kidnapped her had taken her to what looked on the inside like another shepherd's cottage, but she didn't know where they were. They told her she could scream all she wanted, no one would hear, so she did. No one came to investigate, they were telling the truth. The men didn't talk to each other much, but she gathered they were asking for ransom for her return. She knew her father would pay anything to get her back, so at first she wasn't worried.

Then some of the men started to argue about whether it would be safe to let her go or not. She wanted to promise she would never tell anyone what they looked like, but she was too scared to say anything. There were at least eight men taking turns guarding her at first, but after the arguments, some of them left. The look one of them gave her as he walked away scared her worse than anything so far. He looked sad and so very _sorry_.

She was not going to be released, the men who left had argued for killing her right away, the others thought killing her immediately would be a shameful waste. She didn't want to die, but she was terrified by the thought of what they might want her alive for.

What the men who remained did to her was beyond anything she could have imagined. They kept her for what seemed a never-ending nightmare. The bandits who stayed used and degraded and humiliated her every way they could think of. She prayed that one would kill her, she didn't care how much it hurt to die, she just wanted it to end. But her prayers went unheeded.

They didn't bother to feed her more than a scrap of bread or two, she wasn't able to keep even those few bites down for long. Ravenna was growing weaker, she couldn't move much and she blacked out a lot. She couldn't even tell if it was night or day. She thought she heard her tormentors arguing, but she couldn't make herself focus enough to understand the words. Then she slipped into unconsciousness once more.

When she woke, she was achingly cold. The hut was black as pitch, there was no fire. She held her breath, listening, and heard nothing but her pulse pounding in her ears. They were gone. She was afraid to move, she didn't want to find that this was a dream or that they really were there, waiting in the darkness. It seemed a long time passed and she started being able to see a little. Maybe it was nearing dawn. She couldn't bear to lie still on the freezing floor any longer, but she couldn't stand. She crawled over to the hearth, hoping they left something to start a fire with. There was a tinder box, but she found only a few sticks and a half-burned log. It wouldn't last long, but she couldn't do better. Ravenna tried to steady her shaking enough to get a spark to catch.

It was too much, she couldn't get the fire started. She tried and tried, and her shaking got worse and she thought she might have blacked out for a while again. It was difficult, but she managed to drag herself around the cottage's single room looking for blankets, cloaks, anything to keep her warm. She found a few discarded pieces of clothing, little better than rags, but it was something. No food, and no water, she thought. I can try to light a fire again. Maybe the Maker will take me soon. She felt tears running down her cheeks as she made her way back to the hearth to try again to light a fire.

-\-

There was smoke curling into the sky not far ahead. Guard Captain Jairas was certain it hadn't been there a quarter hour ago. "Perhaps we'll find the lass after all. Maithas, Taven, scout ahead and make sure those brigands haven't sent us into an ambush." Jairas didn't know whether to hope they'd find the young lady or not. The bandits who attacked them outside the last town were rough and as mean as men came. One of them had what looked like a mongrel mabari. What that sort might do to a young woman chilled his blood.

Taven crept forward. There were many footprints in the snow around the hut, but they looked to belong to the men who attacked the search party earlier. The smoke coming from the chimney had dwindled, the fire inside was going out, and there were no sounds coming from within. If she was in there, she needed him, he told himself. He should have reported back, this was at least twice as far as he would normally have scouted ahead, but he couldn't stand the thought of making lady Ravenna wait on procedure. He readied his sword and eased the door open, it wasn't latched. When his eyes adjusted to the dimness within, he entered. There was only a single room, someone was huddled on the floor by the hearth, covered in a few scraps and rags. Her bare feet were sticking out from under the pathetic covering. "M'lady? Ravenna, it's guardsman Taven. We're here to bring you home, lass."

She stirred and groaned. It seemed she couldn't do more, so Taven moved to her side. He removed his cloak and draped it over her, "There, lass. You're safe now. I'll go get a few logs, this fire's nearly out and I daren't move you on my own." He was muttering soothingly, Ravenna seemed to be unconscious, but he wanted her to know she was safe. He hurried to find some firewood, then he scooped some snow into his helm. The girl's lips were chapped and bloody, it looked like she was severely dehydrated. The rest of the search party would arrive soon enough and she didn't look well enough to move in her current state.

-\-

She actually had little memory of the last portion of her captivity, but in her nightmares she relived that hell nearly every night. She slept as little as possible and woke screaming and crying as often as not. Her family always looked sad and angry when they saw her, she couldn't leave her room without being overcome by panic.

When she thought of what she had done and what it cost her she couldn't bear to see her reflection in a mirror, or any other surface, so she broke everything that showed her her own face. And even though she knew not every man was like her kidnappers, she couldn't stop remembering the things from her nightmares in the presence of any male, even her father or brother. She prayed every night to go to sleep and never wake. She didn't really believe in the Maker anymore though, He didn't care enough about her to protect her in the first place and certainly did nothing to help her after.

One day, Fergus came into her room. She tried not to be afraid of him, and it really wasn't _him_ she was afraid of, but she couldn't keep from backing away. He kept walking toward her until she was cornered and sobbing in panic. Her brother had tears on his cheeks as he held out a sheathed short sword to her, "Sister, I can teach you how to use this. I can teach you to be able to kill anyone who tries to hurt you. We can use this, or a dagger, or even a bow. I can show you how to use your bare hands too. The arms-master is better, but I though maybe if it was me..."

She took the weapon with a shaking hand and fought to control her breathing, she knew he wouldn't hurt her. She had a weapon right now, too. She pulled the sword awkwardly from the scabbard. Being armed made her feel more safe, she was surprised at how much calmer it made her, "Yes, I need this." Desperation tinged her voice.

"Good, do you want to start now?" He was so glad she could actually speak to him, it was more than he had dared hope for. It had been nearly a year since she was kidnapped and raped, and this was the first time she had spoken to him. She nodded. "Okay. Let me go get some things. You clear some space in here, okay?"

She nodded, but didn't move until he had reached the door. "Fergus," she called, "...I really miss you. I'm sorry." Tears were streaming down her face.

It broke his heart that she thought she needed to apologize to him. "Hush now, I'm right here, nothing to miss. Now, let's get started so you can get better, sis. Everyone misses you."

-\-

All the fighting lessons weren't enough, though. They gave her the confidence to move about the keep once again, but nervously, and she nearly panicked when she chanced to meet someone she didn't know well. Everyone knew who she was, even if she had never met them before, and everyone always stared. Ravenna thought maybe she was imagining it, but imagined or not, it scared her.

She was almost seventeen now, but she felt like an old woman. She didn't trust anyone, she couldn't let anyone near enough to touch her, and when she wasn't wearing her armor she was still too frightened to spend much time out of her room.

The problem was that as good as she was with a blade, or even without one, she was likely to be smaller than anyone she was fighting. She was far from the best blade in Highever, and she suspected many of the guards she trained with were holding back, at least a little. That meant even if she fought her best and didn't give up, someone could still overpower her. She was still terrified of men, fighting skills weren't enough.

Eleanor understood the problem and worked to come up with a solution. It took time, but eventually she was able to hire a tutor. The woman was a 'retired' courtesan from Antiva. She now spent her time teaching young women the same skills she once employed and was reportedly a very good teacher. It took more time still to convince _dama_ Marlana to come to Ferelden for a single student who would never _actually_ practice the skills she taught. Finally, Marlana did travel to Highever, though Eleanor didn't know what made up her mind. She would have her daughter taught how to use other methods to be able to control a situation and hopefully Ravenna would regain enough confidence to be free of her fear.

Ravenna was outraged. They can't expect me to take lessons from an aging _whore, _she told herself. It was a bitter thought, it seemed unfathomable why her mother would want such a thing, and she simply didn't believe her father had a clue what Mother was up to, he would never allow it if he knew! A small part of her whispered that perhaps she was to take lessons from such a woman because that's all she would ever be good for. She tried not to listen, but it was impossible to banish entirely. She petulantly avoided _dama_ Marlana's lessons, choosing to spend the time at weapons practice instead.

She missed three lessons, and on the afternoon of the fourth, while Ravenna was practicing her dagger work, Marlana strolled into the yard. The Antivan woman had a beautiful set of matching daggers and good-naturedly asked one of the men in the yard to spar. The guardsman chuckled, but he happily agreed, throwing a wink over his shoulder to his comrades. Surprisingly to Ravenna, the woman was quite skilled with daggers. The guard she was fighting was using a sword and shield, yet she managed to score twice as often as he did. Also, she somehow managed to best opponents who clearly outmatched her in skill, size, and speed. What was more, they didn't seem to be _letting_ her win, though they all seemed to enjoy being beaten by her. None of them cursed or seemed upset at losing to her. Ravenna was intrigued and watched Marlana's matches like a hawk. Whatever secret Marlana was using to soundly defeat nearly every man she sparred with, Ravenna wanted for herself. The next day she vowed to herself that she would approach her intended instructor with an apology.

-\-

Marlana was gracious, but her chilly manner made Ravenna fear she was going to refuse to teach her. "Mistress, I apologize for missing lessons. I did not think I would have anything to learn from you, but clearly I was mistaken. Please forgive my assumption and my rudeness." She held her breath and waited, dreading a dismissal.

"I suppose this can be forgiven, so long as you understand that I will not tolerate such behavior from any student of mine in the future. I have much to teach you, _damigella_. Perhaps you will not appreciate the... common applications of my skills, but as I have demonstrated, mastery of the art of seduction can be coupled with many other skills to many purposes."

Ravenna was surprised, Marlana _was_ here to teach her how to be a whore, "But I thought... Is that what you did in the yard yesterday?" She felt herself blushing, "I'll never be able to do what you did, then. I'm sorry you've wasted your time."

Marlana chuckled softly, "Do not worry, _damigella_, I am a very good teacher, as long as you wish to learn. You are lucky, most girls I teach have no choice about how they will use the skills I give them."

The lessons started with skills that seemed unrelated and useless, but Ravenna decided to trust that they were meaningful. Among other things, she studied languages and dancing, as well as the art of watching and listening to the people around her.

Sometimes it started feeling like she might be able to have a life again. Feeling relaxed enough among people to attend social gatherings and events again didn't seem so impossible, she realized one day. Lessons with Marlana had been going well, she liked the woman very much and often forgot that she wasn't _proper_ company for a Teryn's daughter.

When a year had passed, Marlana told her pupil that she was ready to be taught the skills she was brought from Antiva to teach. Ravenna had grown more confident as she learned how to read motives and intent in those around her, but she still needed more. "Teach me." she said.

-\-

_Dama_ Marlana taught her the art of seduction and the secrets of sensuality. Ravenna learned not to be afraid of her desires, nor those of anyone around her. She learned how to read desire in others and how to exploit it to her purposes. Eventually, she learned how to dampen or encourage desire to meet her own ends.

When Marlana had no more to teach, she helped her student find ways to practice. Ravenna had grown very attached to the Antivan woman, even convinced herself she might be in love with her. What they 'practiced' in private may have enforced the idea.

When the folk of the keep started whispering, Eleanor worried that the 'tutor' she employed was taking advantage of her daughter and Marlana was dismissed immediately. Though it was not without gratitude. Ravenna had found her confidence and she once again seemed to find joy in her life, though she did not take Marlana's dismissal well.

"Mother, you can't make Marlana leave! I still need lessons." She couldn't stand the idea of losing Marlana, and she hoped she didn't sound like she was whining. "I need her here, please."

"_Dama _Marlana says your training is as complete as it can be without making you into... what she was. Darling, you're doing so well, it's time to stand on your own again."

"She's the only one I can talk to, no one else even dares to treat me like I'm not about to shatter. She could start teaching me knife work. She's very good and I only have the basics..."

"The arms-master will teach you if that's what you wish to learn. Marlana is eager to get back to Antiva, she hasn't stopped complaining about Ferelden since she got here. You must say your farewells. She _is_ leaving." And Maker help me, I hope I'm not about to undo all she's done for you, she added silently.

Marlana wouldn't allow Ravenna to visit her and offered a formal and very proper goodbye as she was departing. Ravenna didn't know if she was following instructions from her parents, but a bitter part of her whispered that Marlana had been merely playing a part and had never been a friend and certainly didn't love her. In the empty days that followed the _dama's_ departure, Ravenna vowed she would not let herself get too close to anyone again. She would play at love, but never let it overcome her.

Idling allowed Ravenna too much time to brood and sulk. She insisted that she be allowed to accompany Fergus on patrols, now that she had no more lessons to attend. Mother objected, but Father couldn't find the heart to refuse her. She found a place where she could immerse herself in her new-found strengths and convince herself that's what she was: strong.

_Author's Note: this is the end of the 'flashbacks', we'll be back to the 'present' in the next chapter. Thanks for reading. Please review! I can't get better if I don't get feedback._ :)


	9. Chapter 9

A soft tap on her door brought her focus back to the present. She was a little startled to find there were tears on her cheeks. She swiped at them and called, "Come in."

Leliana entered the room, carrying two mugs of steaming tea. "I thought you might like some company, perhaps someone to talk to?" She crossed the room and handed Ravenna one of the mugs, then began to make herself comfortable on the couch beside her. Ravenna couldn't help but stare, the way Leliana carried herself was so similar Marlana. There was much about the Orlesian woman that reminded her of her former mentor.

Ravenna snapped out of her reverie when she realized Leliana had noticed her stare, "Thanks. Is there honey in it?" Leliana nodded, smiling slightly. "Well, since you remembered that, I suppose I can let you stay." Ravenna smiled a little to make sure Leliana knew she was teasing. The tea was strong and just a little too hot, with the extra honey as well, it was perfect. She enjoyed it for a few moments, using the excuse to collect herself and banish her ghosts.

"You're not who I expected this evening. I guess Alistair must be more angry with me than I thought. That being true, I'm glad you're here instead. You're not going to yell at me, are you, Leliana?" She said with half a smile.

Leliana was studying Ravenna closely. She had been crying, at least a little. Not a good sign, but there were no signs she had been drinking and she was left alone and didn't harm herself. Perhaps Zevran had been able to help after all. "No, my friend. You have had a long day, have you not? I understand you were 'summoned' by Anora..." The unvoiced question hung heavy between them. Leliana was not sure she would receive any response and hoped she had not pressed too quickly.

Of course Leliana is here for gossip, Ravenna thought. Perhaps it was the time she spent as a lay sister in the Chantry, but Leliana seemed to lack a certain degree of subtlety Ravenna assumed a Bard would need to possess. Or perhaps it was an act, there were times that Leliana seemed every inch what she claimed she no longer was. "Yes, I spoke with the Queen. She wanted to know where I would cast my support for the crown before the Landsmeet. I asked her to consider wedding Alistair to strengthen her own claim. She was surprised, but she does not want to lose her power..."

Leliana gasped, "Oh, Ravenna! Surely you don't intend to make him go through with that? And what of yourself, how can you stand the thought of your love with _Anora_? Does Alistair know? I thought he did not even want the throne..."

"Enough, Leliana. Anora is dangerous and must believe we support her. This is not my decision to make, but by convincing her that she needs Alistair to keep her crown, I've neutralized her as an enemy. At least for a time." She sighed wearily, "If Alistair knows, it's not from me." Ravenna did not miss the small approving smirk on Leliana's face. Either it was for her benefit, or Leliana's time in the Chantry had indeed made her sloppy. What about that pleased Leliana, Ravenna didn't want to begin to guess at.

"I see. Things are not going well between the two of you, are they?" Leliana knew she was prying, but Ravenna seemed willing to talk. It's best for Ravenna to speak of her troubles, she told herself, rather than to be left alone with them.

"As ever. It seems I'm very bad at keeping him happy." Ravenna didn't want to talk about Alistair. She wished Leliana would go away, a headache was beginning behind her eyes.

"Nonsense, he adores you. He is on edge lately, true, but his greatest worry has been for you. Eamon has been pressing him to put forth a bid for the crown, but still you are first in his thoughts."

"Exactly. He can't stop feeling sorry for me. Every time he looks at me, it's with pity or, I don't know, fear maybe. He won't speak of anything beyond my comfort unless it's to apologize or promise vengeance or _something_... He can't let it go and I just want to forget about it and move on."

"Perhaps you should tell him these things. I'm certain he does not wish to hurt you." Leliana waited for a reply, but Ravenna just closed her eyes and rested her head against the back of the couch. "Perhaps I should let you rest, it is getting late. Is there anything you need?"

Ravenna shook her head. She didn't dare say anything or open her eyes, fearing Leliana would take it as an invitation to stay longer.

"Very well. Ragnar has been whining for you all day. Eamon has him in the kennels, would you like me to have him brought here?"

Ravenna sat up, "The kennels? That nug-licker!" Spending too much time with Oghren, she thought as she heard the expletive pass her lips.

"Your noble hound did not have a friendly greeting for the Queen, it was thought best to keep him confined until you were well enough to deal with him. Shall I..."

"No," Ravenna snapped, "I'll go out there myself." She stood to leave and saw Leliana's expression, "I'm sorry, I'm not myself. I've been poor company, but I'm glad you came to see me." Leliana seemed placated, so she hurried out, leaving her in the room. Ravenna hoped she would not still be there when she returned. She liked the former Bard, but she did not trust her. Ravenna felt vulnerable and on edge when Leliana was around.

The evening air was cool and refreshing. It did much to alleviate her growing headache. Somehow, she had the good fortune not to run into anyone, except a few servants, on her way to the kennels. Eamon kept no dogs in Denerim, Ragnar was alone in the run. He started barking excitedly and jumping against the gate when he caught her scent. His excitement brought a smile to her face. She wasn't a dog person, really, but Ragnar wasn't just a dog, he was a mabari.

She lifted the latch and threw open the door, releasing her war dog. He immediately jumped up and tried licking her face, "Dirty mongrel! Down, Ragnar," she commanded, laughing at his energetic greeting. She threw her arms around his neck and bore him down, finally calming him somewhat. He still nearly bowled her over, so she sat on the ground and tried to keep her face from getting too coated in dog slobber.

When he finally ceased his assault, she fed him a bit of buttered bread she brought for him as a treat and apology for neglecting him, which he snatched out of her fingers. She wished she hadn't thought of her fingers. Look on the bright side, she told herself, he might have nipped one just then if they hadn't been shortened.

"I hear you've been a naughty dog, trying to take a bite out of the Queen," she scolded, scratching his thick neck and behind his ears.

He sat back and whined, cocking his head to the side.

"Well, I'm fine now, so you should let her live." Ragnar laid his ears back and growled. "For the moment, anyway," she amended under her breath. The mabari barked in acknowledgment and licked her hand. She dug a comb carved from horn out of her belt pouch and started grooming him. How did he always manage to get so filthy? "Why didn't you come with Alistair and Zev to rescue me, boy? You're supposed to be my knight in shining armor and I had to settle for those two."

Ragnar growled a little, then yipped.

"Told you you'd never pass for a delivery boy, did they? Well, you _are_ bloody filthy and perhaps more hairy than most servants tend to be..." Why she felt it was necessary to hold a conversation with her dog, beloved as he was, was beyond her. Ever since Ragnar 'chose' her, it had been like this though. As silly as she felt doing it, she didn't feel right to treat him like a pet. So she treated him like he was a brother. A big, hairy, smelly brother with dog breath, but a brother.

She put the comb away. "Want to sleep on my bed tonight?" she offered as she stood up and brushed herself off a little. The mabari wagged his stub of a tail and licked her hand. "No one else is going to be using it." She muttered. Ragnar surprised her by growling a little. Now what was that supposed to mean? She threaded her fingers into the ruff of coarse hair around his muscular neck and headed back indoors with him. He's just a dog, she told herself, it doesn't mean anything.

Ragnar suddenly barked and started wagging his tail, Ravenna cast about to see what he was so excited about. The Sten was just exiting the kitchen door, holding something in his hand. Ravenna hesitated. The Sten was next to impossible to understand, and she didn't feel up to interacting with him. But surely he wasn't out here just to speak with her, maybe he wouldn't want to talk.

"_Kadan_, I did not know you would be here." Ravenna couldn't quite credit it, but the giant seemed slightly abashed. Intriguing. "I brought these for Ragnar." He said, tossing the mabari a few of the treats he held.

They were well-received. Ragnar jumped into the air to catch them, gulping them down in one bite. The Sten then took one for himself. "Sharing your cookies with my mabari? You'll make him fat, you know."

"Nonsense, he is a war dog and has better sense than to glut himself to degeneration."

"Huh. Well, he's a war dog, I'll grant you that much." She didn't fail to notice that the Qunari had not offered _her_ any of the cookies, though there were at least a dozen left in the sack. She wasn't about to ask for one, however.

"He is the most sensible Ferelden native I've met. Everyone in this country is consumed by chaos. None of you know your place in life." Ragnar barked in agreement and the Sten offered him another cookie.

She scowled at the mabari. Taking sides against me for a cookie, she thought. "Are you going to tell me I'm not a woman again? Or perhaps now I'm not a warrior since I've proven I can be captured and raped like a woman."

The Sten seemed to soften his tone somewhat, "It is a puzzling situation. One thing cannot be two things, yet you are. Perhaps it would be better for you if it were not so, but you seem determined. But no, I was considering the actions of your current leaders and the way Fereldans choose who to follow." Ravenna narrowed her eyes. He chose to continue without a reply from her, "Allowing choice in such matters is not correct to begin with, but that a leader could remain such after fleeing the field of battle and while ignoring the danger of the Blight is madness."

"I agree with you there. That's why we're getting rid of Logain. He has no true claim to the power he has taken."

"You would replace him with the other Warden? He is a weakling, and _he_ follows _you_, he cannot be a leader." The mabari looked at Ravenna and wagged his tail.

"Word's getting around about that rather quickly. He's not the only option."

"Yes, the Queen. Even ignoring that she betrayed you and is unfit for that reason alone, she is a woman, not a leader." Ravenna raised an eyebrow, this argument irritated her mightily, as she had expressed to the Qunari every time he used it. "You have proven that you are capable of fulfilling more than one role in life, _Kadan_. She has claimed to be a leader and a woman, yet has performed the duties of neither role." Again, Ragnar barked in agreement.

If I didn't know better, I'd say they planned this, Ravenna thought incredulously. "I will see the Blight ended. I will put whomever I must on the throne to see it done."

The Sten nodded soberly, "That is commendable. Ragnar has chosen well to follow you, _Kadan. _But for the rest of them, they would be better served to follow _him_."

"Let's make _him_ king then, shall we?" She turned to address the war hound "Your room awaits, your Majesty. Allow me to escort you." Ragnar looked far too pleased with himself. "You've given me some things to think about, Sten. Goodnight."

The Qunari nodded once again, "_Kadan._"


	10. Chapter 10

Ravenna spent most of the morning planning. She intended to speak at length with Eamon, then Alistair as well. It was important to know if Eamon was trustworthy or not, she suspected not. He had shaped Alistair into a virtually perfect puppet, it seemed hard to believe it was happenstance. It could be that Eamon himself was manipulated by someone, likely his wife, but that seemed unlikely.

Anora was obviously a threat, though as long as she believed she needed Alistair and that Ravenna would support her at the Landsmeet, she was probably harmless.

Ravenna didn't know what to make of Alistair's place in this tangled mess. He didn't claim to want the throne, but she had not missed the subtle change in him when it was first proposed that he be put forward as a candidate for the throne. He was nervous, true, but he was also proud, and unless she misread him, he was hopeful. She suspected he didn't actually want the throne, but being _needed_ and _wanted_ were things he was desperate for. The thought that a whole country needed him must have been a heady feeling indeed.

Yes, Alistair was the keystone. If he wanted the throne, she would give it to him, but only if she was certain he would not be controlled by Eamon, Anora or someone else who didn't care about him. If he refused to take it, there would be no real choice but Anora. It was not a promising prospect, but as Gray Wardens, she and Alistair could easily leave the circle of Anora's influence if it came to that.

Eventually, she was satisfied that she knew how to approach Eamon and what she needed to hear from Alistair. Ready to face the day, she called Ragnar to heel and sought the Arl first.

-\-

The meeting with Eamon was shorter than she feared. Ragnar was surprisingly ill-behaved, growling whenever the Arl drew too near Ravenna, and after being banished to the other side of the room, away from the conversation, he pissed in the corner and chewed discretely on the furniture legs. By the end of the conversation, Ravenna was glad for his actions. She agreed with Ragnar's opinion of the Arl and wished it was acceptable for her to express it as blatantly as the mabari had.

Eamon wanted Alistair on the throne. He tried to talk Ravenna out of making Anora Alistair's queen, as if it were truly her decision what the current monarch and the last of the Theirins should do. Eamon was clearly convinced that Alistair would do whatever she told him to do and had spent the morning testing his influence over her. Deciding whether I should be allowed to remain near your puppet king or not, weren't you Eamon? She mused to herself. She had pretended to be easily swayed and generally biddable. Best not to make an enemy of perhaps our strongest ally too soon, she thought.

The Arl wanted to take a break for lunch, then summon Alistair to join their 'discussion'. It was likely to be a very unpleasant afternoon for both Wardens, and Ravenna hoped Alistair would give her a chance to explain herself to him later.

It bothered her that Alistair had not sought her out last night. It probably meant he was unwilling to forgive her for her conversation with Zevran on the wall, more specifically, for not objecting to being kissed by the assassin. There was nothing to gain by allowing it to upset her, but the thought that he would trust her so little and refuse to even speak to her made her grit her teeth in anger and frustration.

A servant informed her that the Arl was ready to reconvene. She composed herself and made her way back to the study. Ragnar's hackles rose as they neared the study, but he didn't growl and he laid his ears back only for a moment. Anora was leaving as they arrived, "It will be like marrying his twin," the queen muttered under her breath.

Ravenna's blood went cold. So, Eamon had confirmed his support for the plan to make Alistair marry the Queen. Alistair's never going to trust me again, she thought. Not that he truly does now, she bitterly added. It surprised her that she was as disturbed by the thought of Anora talking about being married to _her_ lover.

Ragnar bumped his head against her hand, licked her palm and trotted back down the corridor. A fine companion you are, abandoning me now, she thought. She took a deep breath and entered the room. Eamon and Alistair were already in the study. Oh Maker, I wonder if Eamon told him it was _my_ idea. Judging by the look he gave her, the answer was yes. Alistair stood and walked over to the bookshelves, making a show of studying the shelves. "Ah, Ravenna. I believe we've just worked everything out. Alistair and Anora both find your plan agreeable. I don't think there's more to discuss at this point. We need only secure the support of the other nobles and to call the Landsmeet."

"I see. I suppose it's my task to figure out how to garner support?" She sighed wearily when Eamon nodded. "Very well. Alistair, I think I'm going to need your assistance."

Alistair turned to meet her gaze. He looked at her as if she was a stranger, for a moment she thought he would refuse her, "I doubt you actually need me for anything, but there's not much else for me to do, is there?"

Ravenna looked away, "Meet me a little later, then. We'll figure out where to start." She turned and left the room, tears were gathering in her eyes. She angrily wiped them away, I'm so bloody _fragile_ right now, she wished she could allow herself to crumple and give up. She hurried back to her room, hoping no one would see her.

_Author's Note: I know this is short, the next chapter will make up for it. It was initially all one chapter, but I decided it needed to be broken up. Next chapter coming soon: Alistair and Ravenna finally talk about many things. As always, thanks for reading, reviewing, favoriting and alerting. :)  
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	11. Chapter 11

Ravenna was dozing on the couch by the cold fireplace. A soft tap at the door startled her awake. It was dusk outside, she'd been here all day. She tried to clear the sleep from her eyes and called, "Come in." She cast about the room, looking for Ragnar, but she remembered that he hadn't come back to the room with her. She hoped he wasn't causing trouble, wherever he was.

Alistair hesitantly entered the room. For a moment, she was simply glad to see him. That small spark of happiness died when she saw his face and posture. She smiled a little for him anyway. "I wondered when I'd see you. Come sit with me?" she tried to keep her tone light.

Instead of taking the offered seat beside her, he stood by the window, nearly with his back to her, "I thought you might have had _company _again, so I waited. But it's getting late, so I guess you must have taken care of that earlier." He hated how bitter he sounded, especially since he was doing his best to sound stoic and emotionless. No help for it, and besides, she probably would have known how he felt anyway. It was uncanny how Ravenna seemed able to read his mind

She was puzzled for a moment, then she remembered that he'd seen Zevran kiss her. Perhaps he caught a few words of their conversation as well. And still, he doesn't trust me enough to ask a sodding question before he condemns me, she thought angrily. "Maker's blood, Alistair. I assume you mean Zev? If you're going to call me a cheat then just sodding do it!"

"You admit it then? I know you've been through hell, Ravenna. But how is it that you can't stand to let me kiss you, yet you can fuck him behind my back?"

"No." Ravenna growled, she was furious. She didn't want to say anything to him right now.

Alistair blinked, "No, what?"

She gritted her teeth, "No, I don't admit anything. Nothing happened between Zev and I. We talked yesterday, on the wall. He held me for a moment, to offer comfort. You saw him kiss me, maybe you heard half of something he was saying. The kiss was chaste, my brother could have kissed me like that in front of the Landsmeet and not raised an eyebrow. He said he was going to bring my arms and armor to my room, that it would be here waiting for me when I was ready for it." She stared, daring him to call her 'liar'. You will not like the consequences if you don't apologize now, she thought.

Relief and embarrassment washed over him. "You mean you didn't... Well, good. It's... good that I was wrong about that." He _was_ relieved, but he was also still hurt that she could confide in a miscreant like Zevran, but not him. And she had still let the wretch kiss her, she didn't seem to mind _that_ at all. "So, what were you talking about that required a locked door?"

Her eyes narrowed, "That's it? It's good that you were wrong?" She laughed incredulously, "Fine. It's good that you were wrong. We talked about how I feel about having been locked in a cage, tortured for refusing to sign away the lives of everyone who associates with me, having my fingers chopped off, oh, and _raped_ by prison guards."

He closed his eyes, almost deciding not to press any further. Almost. "Why him? Haven't I earned your trust yet? You haven't been willing to speak a word about..."

"Because you don't trust me, and more importantly, you pity me," she interrupted. "You see me as a victim," she spat the word, "a fragile, broken woman." Her voice was beginning to tremble, "And I'm still... broken, but you can't treat me like that or I'll never be able to be anything else with you." She didn't want to see pity or guilt written across his features, so she studied her hands in her lap. Wrong idea, she realized too late. It still hadn't fully sunk in that her fingers were gone.

"So you're planning to force me to take the throne and marry that backstabbing bitch because I feel terrible that I didn't protect you better?"

"Dammit, Alistair! I'm not planning anything. I spoke to Anora about it because it's better to make her think we're not opposing her so she doesn't start scheming to have us all murdered in our sleep. Then Eamon told her you were agreeable. Then he told you what had been decided. _I_ am not making these decisions. You need to understand the sodding politics. What I did was find a way to neutralize Anora as a threat and buy us time. Eamon's the one trying to push you onto the throne, you bloody fool!" Ravenna clamped her mouth shut. Say no more, she told herself. He already has enough to be angry about.

He scowled at her choice of words, "Exactly. I'm a bloody fool who doesn't understand simple politics. Clearly not suited to be king. You could have let me know before I made a total ass of myself."

"I doubt anything could prevent that." She scowled at him. "You're the one who was so overcome by jealousy that you couldn't even speak to me about it."

"Right. I suppose I should just assume I don't understand what I'm seeing when I catch you kissing a former lover." He turned his back to her fully.

"If what you assume is that you can't trust me to restrain myself and not betray you, then yes, you should." She had been dreading this conversation all day, and this was the moment that would tell if he was ready to stand on his own or if he was going to let anyone willing to push him run his life.

He was studying his feet. "I can't stand the thought of losing you. It's worse than the thought of being king." He drew a deep breath. "I believe you. And you're right, I should have trusted you. Honestly, I don't think I care what you do, as long as it doesn't change how you are with me. And as long as I don't have to know about it."

Ravenna tried not to let herself grow more angry with him. "You would let me take other lovers, just so long as you didn't have to know about it? Do you really think I'd _want_ to do that?"

"Well. I don't really know, I just thought maybe if I accept the idea I won't end up ruining things by getting jealous. I never want to lose you, I don't care what it takes."

"You're giving me permission to walk all over you, Alistair. You deserve better than that, how can you accept mistreatment from people who are supposed to care for you so easily?"

Alistair's brow furrowed slightly, "If I don't take what I'm given I'll end up with nothing."

"Not true. You'd end up with what you _want_, or at least you'd know you tried." He didn't seem to have any response to that, so she continued, "What I'd really like to know is whether you actually want to take the crown and marry Anora."

"Maker, no! I don't want Anora under any circumstances. The way she was looking at me today... brr, I don't think I could stand that being part of my life. And, well, I guess being king probably wouldn't be so terrible, but I'd rather be a Gray Warden. I'd rather stay with you, love."

"Then why did you allow Eamon to _inform _you that you were going to do it?"

"What _should _I have done? Spat in Anora's face? They said it was your idea. I thought you wanted to be rid of me."

"And I've explained my motives. I would have done sooner, but I didn't have a chance. As it happens, I'm glad you acted like an obedient dog. If you'd refused in there, Anora would be a problem for us."

"Well, that's me. Eager and obedient, better than a puppy." He said bitterly, finally taking a seat on a chair across from Ravenna. "You're not going to make me be king, then?"

"I can't promise it won't be necessary, but it must be your choice. If you choose to take it, I will support you. It might take a little training, but you would be a good ruler."

He leaned back and groaned, "Hah! You say that now... I wish you wouldn't talk like that. Maybe if we help her keep the crown Anora will be so grateful that she won't kill us?"

"Don't hold your breath. But we've survived professional assassins before..." She stopped when she saw him tense slightly. So he's still sore about Zev, she thought wearily. Maker's breath, what more can I say to reassure him, and why the sodding hell do _I _have to take care of _him_ tonight? Maybe he'll let it go.

"You're probably not going to be able to convince _all_ of them not to kill us by sleeping with them." He muttered, half under his breath.

Ravenna slammed her fist on the small table beside her seat, "And _what_ in the bloody hell is that supposed to accomplish?" She stood, intending to leave the room. She wanted to strike him, but he was still seated. Lucky you, Alistair, you're inconvenient to hit, she thought bitterly. "And you wonder why I couldn't talk to you." She turned and headed for the door.

He grabbed her arm just before she reached the latch. "Rave, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I can't believe I did. It just made me so angry to see him with you, to know you turned to him for comfort..."

"Let go. It's not me you want, it never has been. You don't see _me_ when you look at me. You've convinced yourself that lust is love, and for some reason you can't accept that you're the kind of man who would bed a woman he didn't love."

He didn't release her. "No, that's not true." He turned her to face him, "I've been sick worrying about you and these Maker-damned politics. I haven't been thinking, I've just been reacting." She shook his grip off her arm, but she didn't leave. Alistair was willing to count it as a small victory.

"Rave, I didn't mean to make you feel like you couldn't talk to me. I'm so sorry I couldn't get to you before... I just should have been with you when you were ambushed, maybe then none of it would have happened. _I _ wouldn't have let you surrender."

"It was _my _choice. They would have taken us both if you were there, or they'd have killed us for resisting arrest."

"Maybe, but I just can't stop wondering if I'd done things differently..."

"Let it go. We have other things to worry about."

"Ravenna, you're all that matters to me. Please, tell me what to do to make things right." There was more than a hint of desperation in his voice.

This was not what she'd hoped for. He was willing to allow others to use him, unwilling to take responsibility for his emotional responses, and also begging her to make his decisions for him. He'd never be able to stand on his own like this. Despite her words, she didn't believe they could actually escape if Anora wished them dead. And though it was petty selfishness that motivated her, she wouldn't allow Anora to rule by Alistair's side. If he insisted on being controlled and used, she would oblige him. If not her, it would be Eamon or Anora or someone else who cared nothing for him as a person.

"Very well." Her tone was cold and commanding. "You must trust me. Zev is not your rival, he is my friend. You should treat him as such. I will not set aside friends to appease your jealousy, so control it." She watched him carefully, gauging his reaction. He seemed a little unhappy, yet calm and grateful that she was telling him what to do. "Logain must be punished. I assume you want him dead. If that's so, you can't allow Anora to remain in power, even as your queen, or she will find her revenge. If Logain is to die, you must be king."

He went a little pale, but he set his jaw, "Alright. I trust you. I can do this. And Logain _will_ die for what he did to Duncan, the Gray Wardens, and … my brother. If that means I have to be king, so be it."

"It's a poor reason to seek a crown, but I don't see any other option that allows us to live very long." She turned to throw the bolt on the door, "Now, one more thing. Maybe the hardest for you." She placed her hand on his chest and shoved him away from the doorway, advancing to keep the distance between them closed, "You have to convince me you don't feel sorry for me, that you're not afraid I'll break."

She ignored her slight trembling and the fear twisting in her gut. Ravenna threaded her fingers into his hair and pulled his lips to hers, kissing him passionately. He was hesitant. She gripped his hair tighter, "That's not going to work, love. If this is the best you can do I might as well go find Zevran instead."

She tried to kiss him again, but he held her away. "What are you doing? Isn't this too soon?"

Far too soon, she wanted to say. "Stop questioning me, you asked me how to fix everything. Do it or we're done." It took everything she had to remain this close. She hoped that pushing through her fear and revulsion at being touched would have the effect of helping her feel whole again.

Alistair studied her face briefly. He couldn't believe what she was asking him to do. But then, this _was_ Ravenna and it was clear she meant it. She probably _would_go find Zevran if he didn't do something quickly. "Fine. Just tell me if I'm pushing you too far." He drew her close.

Ravenna let him kiss her. She couldn't muster herself to be the aggressor any more, but this time he wasn't holding back so she didn't need to. She tried to relax, she wanted to be able to enjoy herself, and she resolved that she wasn't going to let herself stop him, no matter what he did. There was no time to work through this slowly, she couldn't afford to be plagued by fear of strangers and of being touched. Lacking time, she could use exposure to lessen the fear.

She tried not to cringe as he pulled her shirt over her head. "If this will help you," he gasped between kisses, "I'm glad to do it." He shoved her onto the bed and loosely wound the discarded shirt around her wrists. Either he didn't notice the small whimper that escaped her lips or he chose not to acknowledge it.

-\-

Alistair slipped out of bed, trying not to disturb Ravenna. He almost couldn't believe what the past few hours had been. For the first time ever, he felt like he was free to simply let go. With more than a thin layer of canvas to separate them from the rest of the world, he allowed himself to dismiss his restraint. For days he'd been overwrought, then furious with Ravenna, he channeled all of those emotions into what he was doing.

There were moments, mostly at first, that he nearly felt he was forcing himself on her. Just yesterday he would have believed he wouldn't be able to function, let alone enjoy himself, in such a circumstance. Alistair reminded himself that she told him to do it, she said that it would help her. Otherwise, he told himself, he wouldn't have laid a finger on her.

He had worried that he was too rough, and that he pushed her too quickly, but she never asked him to slow down or stop, so he kept pressing further, doing things he knew he _shouldn't_ want so badly to do to her.

Ravenna murmured in her sleep and stirred slightly, bringing him out of his reverie. He didn't feel like sleeping, though he was tired. He gathered his discarded clothing and dressed quietly. It was late but he still felt like he had energy to burn before he could actually rest. Maybe throwing a stick for Ragnar for a while, or running through some drills would do the trick. He eased the door open and slipped out.

Alistair shut the door silently behind him and turned, immediately being stopped by a very large growling shadow in the corridor. "Ragnar, she's fine, boy. Want to take a walk with me?" He slowly extended his hand, why was the mabari treating him like an enemy or a stranger?

"Easy, boy, you know me." Ragnar snarled at him and snapped at his hand, missing by inches. A warning, only. "I didn't hurt her. She asked me to... Here, go in and see her if you're so worried." He opened the door without turning his back on the agitated mabari. Ragnar stalked into Ravenna's room, turning to snarl at Alistair once he had cleared the door. "Right. Closing the door, leaving now."

The mabari's reaction to him unnerved him. Ragnar had been extremely protective of his mistress since Fort Drakon, but this was the first time Alistair ever actually felt he might be in danger from the war dog. What if he _had_ gone too far tonight? Maybe that's what Ragnar was picking up on. Maker, she _told_ me to, and she never told me to stop, he tried to dismiss his misgivings.

He'd been lost in thought only a few moments, but obviously long enough for Ragnar to wake Ravenna. Her door opened, she hadn't bothered dressing yet apparently, "Sneaking away already?"

"Are you alright? Ragnar was out here and he almost bit me. I think he thought I was... hurting you."

She smirked at him, "Well, you were, but I asked you to, didn't I?" He couldn't help but stare. It was a little surprising to see that he'd left quite a few marks on her body. He wondered if there were still welts from his belt on her backside.

"Anyway, I'm fine." She yawned, "Since I'm not dressed for company, I think I'll stay here. I'll tell Ragnar not to chew on you if you come back later." She leaned into the hall a little and grabbed him for a quick kiss, then she retreated back into the room, closing the door behind her.

That seemed more like the Ravenna he knew, but she still seemed different somehow. "I hope he listens." Alistair muttered, already looking forward to 'later'.


	12. Chapter 12

"And so here is the mighty Gray Warden at long last. The Crows send their greetings once again."

_What is this, _another_ ambush? We're easy to find, I'll grant, but does no one talk about what 'the mighty Gray Warden' _does_ to the fools who get in her way? Maybe Ravenna should start leaving more of them alive... _Alistair glanced at the former Crow assassin to his left, _Then again, maybe not._

Before Ravenna could reply, Zevran stepped forward and addressed the dark-haired man, "So they sent you, Taliesin. Or did you volunteer for the job?"

_Of course, they know each other. I'll bet they were 'close' back in their precious Antiva,_ Alistair mused bitterly.

Taliesin seemed amused, "I volunteered of course. When I heard that the great Zevran had gone rogue, I simply had to see it for myself."

"Is that so? Well, here I am, in the flesh." There was no humor in Zevran's voice or expression. He almost looked like he was going to be sick.

"You can return with me, Zevran. I know why you did this, and I don't blame you. It's not too late. Come back and we'll make up a story. Anyone can make a mistake." Taliesin seemed to be genuinely hoping Zevran would switch sides. He almost seemed to expect it.

_If you betray her, I'll be all to happy to kill you for it._ Alistair was almost hoping Zevran would join Taliesin. It would be satisfying to finally prove to Ravenna that she was wrong to trust the elf.

Ravenna put a hand on Zevran's shoulder to draw his attention, though her eyes never left Taliesin, "Of course I would need to be dead first." Ravenna sounded like she half expected the former Crow's betrayal. There was more than a hint of warning in her tone.

"Do not worry. I am not about to return to the loving arms of the Crows, believe me." Zevran hurried to reassure her.

_Damn. So much for that then. Well, we'll still get to rid the world of the rest of them. _Alistair adjusted his grip on his shield slightly, readying himself for the inevitable fight.

Ravenna relaxed slightly and shifted her stance to ready for battle.

The former Crow turned to address the man sent to finish the job Zevran himself had abandoned, "You are going to lose, Taliesin. You are going to lose badly. You should have stayed in Antiva."

"What? You've gone soft in the head. The Crows will make you pray for death, you fool!"

"Perhaps they will at that. But I'll take what time I have. You have a choice, Taliesin... all of you do." Zevran's voice held a hint of pleading.

"Traitor!" Taliesin's stance became aggressive.

"I won't fight against you, Taliesin... We were friends once. But I will leave you to your fate. Good luck." The former Crow backed away, not meeting Ravenna's unbelieving stare.

_What? Ravenna's just letting him walk away. _The men wielding crossbows began firing. Alistair and Ravenna brought up their shields and closed ranks to cover Morrigan's casting. _And we're even more outrageously outnumbered. She's not going to let him get away with this. I won't let her._ Alistair roared a challenge and threw himself at the nearest Crow, picturing Zevran in the unfortunate man's place.

-\-

"Zevran, walk with me." Ravenna hadn't used anything but the diminutive of his name to address him for a very long time. The former Crow silently stood and followed the Gray Warden out of camp.

"Taliesin is dead, I assume. He must be or you would not have returned."

"As you predicted, he lost. Badly. Why did you leave me?"

_She must be taking this personally or she would have said 'us'_, Zevran thought. "It was an impossible situation for me. Believe it or not, despite my feelings about the Crows in general, I had no argument with Taliesin in specific."

"He wanted me dead, I would say that's something that might have been worth an argument." Ravenna had her arms folded over her chest, her posture was very defensive.

"I did not join him against you."

"No, but you wished him luck and you left me outnumbered three to one." Ravenna studied his face, "What was he to you, Zev?"

"Ah, a fellow Crow, obviously. He was a good friend, whose only fault lie in his priorities. I had no wish to fight him and I truly would have preferred he not come after us at all."

"Because I had to kill him and you would prefer he was alive. He was not just a friend, was he?"

"He was a friend, and more. There is no need to relive the past. That is all behind me, now."

Ravenna couldn't regret killing Taliesin, failing to do so would have lead to her own death as well as Alistair's and likely Morrigan's, so she didn't apologize. "I suppose the Crows will assume you joined him and died with him."

"It is true... I am free of the Crows."

"Then you have no reason to stay."

"Nor do I feel a compelling need to go. Unless that is what you wish of me?"

Ravenna studied the ground at her feet, "I don't know. Alistair is calling for your blood. But I think I need you by my side more than I need peace with him. From the beginning, I've trusted you more than you deserved. This is the first time you've given me reason to question that choice."

"More than I deserve, yes, but also less than you pretend. Reckless abandon and indulgence in self-destruction are not trust, _carina_."

She smiled a little, "True enough." Zevran was not smiling. "Please stay. I don't know if I can hold myself together if you leave me now."

Zevran clucked his tongue, "None of that, please. We both know you don't need anyone else's strength." He was still uncomfortable with the sense of _obligation_ he felt to Ravenna. It was not something he was familiar with and he suspected it was not a reaction based purely on the Warden herself. Being near her invoked_ memories_ he would have preferred to bury.

"As long as you're staying, I won't argue." Ravenna didn't feel like she could stand on her own strength yet, just knowing she had friends close by who would be willing to help made it possible for her to act like she could, though. For a moment she worried that he wouldn't stay.

Zevran noted her uncertainty, "Are you truly well, _mia cara_? You seem to have shrugged off a great deal of troubling experiences very quickly."

Ravenna composed herself to answer. She _wasn't_ well, and not even as well as she likely seemed, but there was nothing anyone could do for her, so there was no point wallowing in it. "Looking for an excuse to comfort me, Zev?" She deflected, forcing some levity into her tone.

"If you are in need of it, yes." His expression darkened, "I hope you will forgive the curiosity that lead to this knowledge, but I have noticed you receive little of it from those you choose to turn to."

"You've watched..."Alistair's treatment of her in private had not gone back to what it was before she demanded he simply do as he was told. It was ironic that his willingness to submit to her will made him a rougher and more demanding lover. She forced herself to look Zevran in the eye, she knew he'd never let it rest if she couldn't even do that, "Then you should know he did exactly what I demanded of him."

"The first time, perhaps. I admit I didn't think him capable of that kind of performance, nor would I have expected that such was his preference. Though, I suppose it makes sense. He spent his life believing he would be forced to take vows of celibacy, being told any desire was forbidden." He watched her reaction closely, "You need not indulge him, _adoravana. _He will treat you as you wish, or he will not touch you at all, you have only to say the word."

_Alistair thinks he's doing what I asked of him. How much better could _you _have done, Zev? You never looked at me with pity or misplaced guilt. I wouldn't have needed to be pushed to get over Fort Drakon if you had been in Alistair's place. _She banished the thought quickly, but not without a pang of regret. "It's fine. It's distracting, that's what I need from him right now." Ravenna was trying to believe it. Her lover's actions weren't the problem, it was the underlying anger. He was using sex as an outlet for his frustration with her, and probably everything else that was weighing on him.

"Yes, I imagine it _is_ very distracting."Zevran conceded, unconvinced, but unwilling to press further. _Letting your bastard prince treat you like a whore will _only_ distract you, it will not make anything better. I hope you realize that soon or you may convince yourself you need his abuse. You are wasted on the likes of him, Ravenna. _There was nothing he could do for her until she understood that. At least she knew he was aware of the situation and was willing to step in. "As you say."

"You will stop spying on me, though, Zevran."

The assassin quirked a small smile at her, "As you wish, _carina_." _I shall have to keep an eye on Alistair, however,_ he added silently.

Satisfied with his response, she turned away. The idea that he had witnessed so much of her private life made her feel very vulnerable. She tried to shake off the feeling. There was something else she had to say before she could go back to camp. "I thought you might wish to know that it was I who dealt the final blow, Zevran. It was as clean as I could make it."

"I see." He struggled slightly to keep his voice even and his face impassive, "Thank you. Now, if you don't mind, I would prefer to be alone for a time."

She nodded, still facing away. "If you change your mind I'll be in camp."

_**Author's note**: Sorry for the delay in updates. I've started another writing project, so I'll be updating this only once a week (instead of the initial two or three times a week) and sometimes I might be a wee bit late. Have no fear, I will not abandon the story. As always, thanks for reading, reviewing, favoriting and alerting. It makes my day. :)_


	13. Chapter 13

It seemed like months had passed since Ravenna had lead her companions into Denerim. "We've uncovered slave trade in the Alienage, released victims of torture, found agents of the Chantry in the dungeon of a noble... What more can we do to undermine Logain?" Eamon seemed to find excuse after excuse against calling the Landsmeet. Ravenna wondered what he was waiting for.

"The time must be right. You must be sure, none of us will leave the Landsmeet chambers alive if..."

"Enough. We're ready. The Blight will not wait on our readiness. Call the Landsmeet, I have what I need to convict Logain of treason and give Alistair the throne."

Eamon scowled at her interruption. _A Cousland she may be, but the throne is not _hers_ to give._ "Very well. I shall do as you ask."

Ravenna merely nodded and stalked from Eamon's study. The Arl was trying her patience. There was no doubt in her mind that he hoped to be the true power behind Alistair's rule. _And Alistair will be all too happy to let _someone_ make him their puppet, but it will not be Eamon_, Ravenna vowed to herself.

-\-

Ravenna led her small party through the streets of Denerim. She refused to allow most of her companions to attend the Landsmeet with her and Alistair. As Gray Wardens, and a candidate for the throne, it was acceptable for them both to be fully armed. Ragnar was a full-blood mabari war hound, he was as valuable as any of the others she might have chosen to accompany her, but he was also a mark of her nobility and considered a testament to her character. Not just anyone was chosen by a mabari. Zevran was the only other one with them. He was able to conceal his weapons and lose no effectiveness. Before they left, Ravenna had given him strict instructions to blend in as much as an Antivan elf with a tattooed face could hope to. She would have left him with the others, but she felt much better with him at her back.

"Are you ready?" She turned to Alistair, "We can't delay much, but once we go in..." Her gaze flicked to Zevran. _He looks like he's made of stone. I wonder if he's going to deliver us to Logain after all._ For a moment she doubted her decision to bring no one else. _Too late to doubt him now._ She dismissed her misgivings.

"Ready as I can be. This almost doesn't feel real anymore." He was staring up at the Royal Palace.

Ravenna didn't reply. "Zev, give us a little lead time when we enter the Landsmeet chamber."

"Yes, yes, I am to be unseen, the better to watch for would-be assassins. You are in good hands, _carina._ You can trust me." Zevran met her eyes levelly.

_An unnerving coincidence. He knows me well, or we are too alike. _"Thank you, my friend. If this goes badly, please escape if you have the chance. They will not let us slip away, but you might be able to."

"Fereldans are not so stupid as that, I think." He lifted one corner of his lips into a small smile.

_What exactly is that supposed to mean?_ Ravenna wondered silently. She turned to the massive doors and entered the Palace's entry hall. As her eyes adjusted to the relative dimness, she tried to identify the woman striding toward her.

"Warden, I am not surprised it has come to this." The figure was rapidly closing the distance between them.

Ravenna recognized the voice and took an involuntary step back, her armor clattered against Alistair's. She muttered a curse under her breath as her eyes darted around the room, fearing an ambush. There were four guards present, but they did not seem to be awaiting Cauthrien's order to attack. Behind her, she heard the soft sound of Zevran drawing a dagger. "Steady, _cara."_ he whispered under his breath.

Despite her obvious antipathy for the Wardens, Cauthrien had not drawn her blade. She had more to say first. "And Alistair. If you were even remotely worthy of being called Maric's son, you would already _be_ in the Landsmeet, now wouldn't you? You have torn Ferelden apart to oppose the very man who ensured you were born into freedom. But do not think you will get past me to desecrate the Landsmeet itself."

Cauthrien was awaiting a response. Zevran glanced at Ravenna, she had still not regained her composure. She was white as a ghost and looked to be fighting herself to remain in place. _And I expect nothing from Alistair. He's good for nothing but gawking and looking the fool. Very well, this should be amusing. _Zevran stepped in front of Ravenna, but well out of Alistair's reach, "Hah! It doesn't take much to be worthy of being called Maric's _bastard_. I remember you, run and tell your master that I have delivered the Wardens to him, as promised, if somewhat late. I expect recompense."

The guardswoman blinked, startled. Recognition registered on her face, "That was not the deal you made with the teyrn, assassin."

Alistair drew his sword, "What? You filthy, backstabbing son of a whore!"

Zevran shrugged as he stepped further away from Alistair, "Dead or alive, I believe, was his charge. Dead was somewhat more tricky than anticipated."

Cauthrien seemed uncertain what she should do for a moment. "The nobles of Ferelden will confirm my lord as regent, and we can finally put this to rest, once you are gone. I can end the threat you pose to Ferelden! To arms, men!"

Alistair was not even looking at Logain's guards and the impending attack, "Elf, I'll kill you first, stop hiding behind Ravenna!"

"Alistair, enough!" Ravenna snapped at him. "You and Ragnar take the guards, or at least hold them off. I'll deal with Ser Cauthrien." _And if Zev lets you near him, I swear I'll let you two tear each other apart. I hope he has the sense to stay out of this battle. _There were two guards rushing them and two others wielding crossbows, and, of course, Cauthrien.

Zevran stepped back, but drew his other dagger. Blending into the shadows, he flanked one of the crossbowmen and dealt him a fatal wound before the man saw him. Without his armor, Zevran was unwilling to risk more, so he retreated behind a pillar.

Ragnar and Alistair were working well together, quickly overwhelming the swordsmen. Alistair finished off the last swordsman as Ragnar launched himself across the room to the crossbowman. The mabari was still savaging him when Alistair drove his sword down to deal the killing blow.

Ravenna slammed her shield against Cauthrien, throwing her full weight into the blow. She was trying desperately to throw the guardswoman off balance to create an opening for her sword. Cauthrien deflected the blow and Ravenna struggled to keep her balance. She dropped into a low crouch and ducked behind her shield as Cauthrien swung her greatsword. The force of the blow landed on the outside edge of her shield and Ravenna's grip broke. _No, I can't beat her without a shield. _Ravenna's hand was numb from the shock of the blow and her shield was skidding across the polished floor. She staggered to her feet and threw herself backward to avoid another powerful cut from the Summer Sword. Ravenna fumbled to draw the dagger sheathed at her waist with her diminished and stunned shield hand. She held the small weapon blade down in front of her, she was less likely to be disarmed gripping it that way and she could rest it along her forearm and use it to help deflect Cauthrien's attacks. _A solid blow from her sword will still break my arm though, I can't rely on it but it's better than an empty, crippled hand,_ Ravenna thought bitterly.

Ravenna threw herself into offense, since her defensive abilities were now so limited. She got a glancing blow through Cauthrien's guard, but Ravenna couldn't even be sure she had wounded the guardswoman.

Zevran swore when Ravenna lost her shield. She was on the other side of the room. He glanced to Alistair and Ragnar, they were focused on dispatching the final crossbowman. _She might not last long enough for them to get over to her. _Zevran darted from his position behind the pillar. He paused a moment, then threw a dagger at Cauthrien's unprotected head. His target was in motion, he didn't expect to hit, but he needed to buy Ravenna some time for Ragnar or Alistair to get to her. As expected, Cauthrien moved and his dagger bit lightly into the side of her head as it sailed past. Thankfully it didn't hit Ravenna, but clattered harmlessly to the floor. Cauthrien called out in surprise and ceased pressing her offense to see where the attack had come from.

Ragnar was surging across the room to assist his mistress, Alistair was still unaware of the situation behind him. Ravenna had given ground to avoid the powerful swings of Cauthrien's sword. Thus far, she had managed to avoid taking any wounds, but she was nearly backed against the doors.

Ragnar launched himself at Cauthrien, all four paws landing squarely against her back. Cauthrien cursed as she fell forward. She barely managed to keep her feet under her, but Ravenna had taken advantage of the distraction. Ravenna ran forward until she was inside Cauthrien's guard, she dropped the dagger and wielded her sword with both hands, swinging an upward cut aimed at Cauthrien's neck. The blow landed a little low, glancing off Cauthrien's armor, but Ravenna twisted the blade, angling it to still make a deadly cut. Cauthrien fell forward, blood spraying from her throat. Ravenna side-stepped, but didn't manage to avoid being drenched in blood. _A fine impression this will make on the Landsmeet, _She mused. Ravenna was surprised at the relief she felt that Cauthrien's ambush had failed and now lay dying at her feet.

Ravenna stepped back to avoid the spreading pool of blood and the feebly flailing limbs of the dying woman at her feet. Alistair and Ragnar had dispatched all the other guards. Zevran had her shield, he was holding it out to her. Ravenna took a breath, "Thank you Zev," she accepted the shield from him, "I think your dagger is by the door." She knelt to take Cauthrien's sword. Logain would recognize it and know what had happened to the wielder.

"You!" Alistair roared, leveling his sword at Zevran, "Get away from her." Alistair was rapidly closing the distance between them, "I'll gut you myself, you back-stabbing..."

Ravenna stepped into his path, "Stop. He aided us, it was clearly a ploy, Alistair." _More likely he was hedging his bets. In normal circumstances there's no question we outmatched them, but I froze up for a moment there. That might have been enough to tip the balance if Cauthrien had taken advantage of it. _She turned to address Zevran, "Is that not so, Zev?"

Zevran had sheathed his daggers and was adjusting his clothing over them. "Just so, _mia cara_. You didn't seem to be your usual, talkative self so I took it upon myself to fill the silence. It was regrettably obvious, but it was the first thing that came to my mind."

"No, he would have happily collected his reward if we had fallen. You can't believe him, Rave." Alistair had lowered his sword, but was clearly still wishing to use it on the Crow assassin.

"It's settled. We have other matters to attend to. Put that away immediately, the Landsmeet has already convened." She sheathed her own sword, slung her shield onto her back. Alistair had still not moved to sheath his sword. "Do it now, Alistair or I'll cut you down myself. He's not your enemy."

Alistair clamped down on his rage. _How dare she threaten me, after all she's asked of me._ "Very well," he thrust his sword into its sheath. "You'll regret sparing him. He's just waiting for the right moment to stab you in the back, Rave."

Ravenna turned her back to them and strode toward the large doors that would admit them to the assembled nobles._ I've asked him to do that, and he wouldn't. I doubt he'll decide to now._


	14. Chapter 14

Landsmeet...

Loghain knelt before her, beaten, and bleeding. He fought to regain breath enough to speak. "I underestimated you, Warden. I thought you were like Cailan, a child wanting to play at war. I was wrong. There's a strength in you that I have not seen anywhere since Maric died. I yield."

Ravenna stared into his steely eyes. She believed Loghain was half mad, dangerous. _It's not my right to take his life, and Maker, I'm tired of dealing death._ For a moment longer, she considered carrying out his execution immediately. When her voice rang through the hushed Landsmeet chamber, the words she spoke seemed strange. "I accept your surrender."

Alistair shoved his way to her side, livid and disbelieving. "I didn't just hear you say that. You're going to let him live? After everything he's done? Kill him, already!"

Ravenna fixed him with her gaze, wanting to cuff him for being such an oblivious idiot. _Acting like a spoiled child in front of the people who hold our fates in their hands._

"Wait! There is another option!" Riordan stepped to Alistair's side. Ravenna thanked the Maker for the distraction from Alistair's disgraceful outburst. "The teyrn is a warrior and general of renown. Let him be of use. Let him go through the Joining."

She knew better than to hope someone else would solve one of her problems, but Riordan's plea was beyond weak. _For politics, I have to entertain this. Alistair's just demonstrated that I'm the one calling his shots. They're considering his claim based on my actions now._ She didn't want her hesitation to allow Alistair an opening to speak, but there was little she could say. "Would that even work? He's not exactly loyal to us."

"What does loyalty matter? We are what we are." Riordan's cynicism appealed to Ravenna, and she had to force herself not to laugh. The senior Gray Warden continued, but his voice was pitched lower. This was a plea to her personally, not a performance for the Landsmeet. "The joining binds us to the darkspawn. You know this. If you were to forswear your oath and flee today, you'd find yourself in the Deep Roads or the Blight-lands, given time. You'd seek them out, or they'd seek you."

Anora stepped forward to add her plea to Riordan's. "The Joining itself is often fatal, is it not? If he survives, you gain a general. If not, you have your revenge. Doesn't that satisfy you?" Ravenna misliked the hope in her tone. Hope could inspire people to fight, even when the cause was lost.

Again, Alistair drew all eyes to him with an outburst, "Absolutely not! Riordan, this man abandoned our brothers and then blamed us for the deed! He hunted us down like animals. He tortured you!" Alistair turned to Ravenna. His tone promised violence, whether she condoned it or not. "How can we simply forget that?"

_Very well. If he won't be stopped, I must appear to be directing him. I couldn't let him live, anyway. _"No, Logain has to die for his crimes, Riordan. It is not my place to perform this execution, however." Ravenn nodded to Alistair and stepped back.

Alistair strode forward and delivered the blow. He paid no heed to the final words exchanged between Anora and her doomed father. A splash of his blood painted the Queen's cheek and she fell to her knees. Ravenna watched unflinchingly, and silently applauded Anora's performance.

When the votes were cast, all but one were in support of Alistair. Ravenna made a mental note to have the Bann watched, dealt with if necessary. The instant change in Alistair's confidence and posture surprised her, and while he held captive the attention of Ferelden's powerful men and women, her eyes sought the darkest corner. Zevran met her gaze, flourished a bow and melted from the room, drawing the attention of no one. She wanted nothing more than to accompany him. The crowd was too loud and pressed too close. She had been forgotten, and Cauthrien's drying blood was no longer enough to keep silk and satin-wrapped bodies from brushing against her.

Finally, she could take no more. She brushed her way through the crowd and stood at Alistair's side, placing a hand on his arm. "Enough, my King. Take command of your army so we can end this blight."

Alistair's confidence wavered. "Er. Right. Rally the men! We march for Redcliffe and victory over the Blight!"

Ravenna stalked out of the Landsmeet on Alistair's heels, but no one had any doubt who was leading.

Leliana walked beside Ravenna through the halls of the castle. The redhead had ambushed her as soon as she finished speaking with Riordan. Alistair brushed past them, clearly preoccupied with the earth-shattering news that one of the three of them must die or the blight would not end. This, on the heels of learning that the archdemon was on Denerim's doorstep. The news didn't surprise Ravenna, somehow. She would find a way to hold Alistair back and take the blow herself if Riordan failed. Her fate seemed sealed, and she was calm.

Ravenna allowed Leliana to link arms with her as they walked through the halls of Redcliffe castle. In silence, they traveled to a more remote wing of the building. When she judged it private enough for a chat, Leliana spoke. "So, we are Arl Eamon's guests, once again. I suppose we shall be leaving very soon, but this is becoming a familiar situation. It seems he hasn't realized his opportunity to be the man behind the throne has passed." Leliana's musical voice was quiet, but Ravenna wished she wouldn't say such things under the man's own roof.

"So it seems."

"For someone destined to become a Queen, and a powerful one at that, you do not seem pleased."

"I'm not. Alistair took the throne so he could watch Loghain die. He's not the biddable oaf that many seem to believe, yet he's not a politician, or even a tactician. And I won't be Queen. I won't marry him." _I won't survive to, even if I wanted that._ Ravenna saw no reason to share Gray Warden secrets with the former bard, especially when they would only upset her.

Leliana's horror and shock were almost comical, "But why not? He loves you, and you... Oh, Ravenna, you can't be serious!"

Stopped in the middle of the corridor and held her arms out. "Look at me! I'd be an absolute laughingstock!" For once, she was not dressed in steel and leather. Her muscular build was unsuited to the borrowed clothing she wore. She appeared bulky and awkward in the conservative Ferelden styles and Orlesian fashion was out of the question for the political statement it would be seen to represent. To nail the point home, she held up her hand and waved her diminished fingers before her and Leliana had the decency to look abashed. "Besides, already, there are whispers that his ascension is part of a Gray Warden plot to seize power."

"Why, that's rubbish. And it's that dress that's to blame, not you. Perhaps a dress that exposed more of your shoulders would be more flattering. Gloves to hide your poor fingers. And with the right shoes, you would be the picture of femininity."

"I have scars. Everywhere. I look amazing in men's clothing, but the Queen is expected to wear dresses, I hear. But clothes don't matter. When Alistair realizes he has his pick of women, he'll be relieved I turned down his proposal."

"He proposed? And you refused? Oh, my dear! This is awful. You are ruining my story!"

"I didn't, but I'm going to. If we both live to see the coronation, that will be soon enough."

Leliana clearly disapproved, but Ravenna was grateful that she didn't continue to argue. "I'm tired, Leli. It's been good to talk with you again."

"Maker grant that this won't be the last time. Good night, my friend. I hope you change your mind." The Orlesian woman pecked Ravenna's cheek and turned back to her own quarters.

_Never. Even if we both survived somehow. As the King's whore, I'd get more respect than I would as the Queen. From the King as well as his Kingdom._ Part of her secretly hoped that Alistair would tire of her quickly. She felt obligated to support him, even if that meant making him her puppet, but being under constant scrutiny was breaking her down. Many of her wounds were too fresh, and others too deep, for her to be comfortable with so many eyes on her.

One foolish Bann's daughter had even approached her to ask her about the time she spent in the Fort. The girl had romanticized the 'daring rescue' and pictured the prison as similar to being locked in one's room. Ravenna spoke to the girl for fifteen minutes, drawing several other listeners. She wasn't sure what effect her account had on the men and women present, and she didn't care. It was more than a relief to leave Denerim after that, and she dearly regretted speaking of something so personal and horrific in mixed company.

One of the torches outside her quarters was out. From the shadows, a figure emerged, startling her. "Zevran, you're lucky I'm so foolishly unarmed."

"Hush, _mia cara_. All is well. You have a visitor in your room. I thought you would wish to know." He bowed slightly and walked away.

"Wait, that's it? You weren't lurking in the shadows just to tell me that."

"Of course not. I intended to be the one awaiting your return. Imagine my irritation when I learned I was not the first to have the idea. When I realized I was beaten, I couldn't decide what to do with myself. I believe I shall spend some time on the roof."

Ravenna raised an eyebrow. "I suppose I have an audience to keep, but some air would be refreshing. Maybe later..." She trailed off, watching his reaction, wondering what game he was playing. _Maybe he's heard something. Maybe he knows about the sacrifice somehow. Or maybe... I've told no one except Leliana about my intent to refuse Alistair, but somehow I don't believe that precludes Zevran from knowing._

A crooked smile quirked his lips. "I expect to be there long into the night." Once more, he turned to leave.

"Who beat you to my chambers?" _Eamon told Alistair that he wasn't allowed to bed his _consort_ under this roof anymore. I doubt he'd disobey his dear uncle. And after Riordan's news, I can't imagine him doing anything but fretting, pacing all night long._

"Not your lover, or I may not have chosen to wait meekly in the shadows, as I did."

Ravenna held his gaze for a moment, wondering how that might have played out. _I'm glad I don't have to find out, but the thought is amusing enough._ "I don't suppose this will take very long, then." She didn't wait for a response before entering her room.

"Morrigan." The mage looked angry, as usual, but there was worry in her eyes.

"Do not be alarmed. It is only I." The Mage's voice was soft, soothing almost.

Ravenna closed the door behind her. "Don't you have your own room? Or is something wrong?" She crossed her arms over her chest. Finding Morrigan in her room tonight was not likely to be a coincidence.

"I am well. Tis you who are in danger. I have a plan, you see. A way out. The loop in your hole. I know what happens when the archdemon dies. I know a Gray Warden must be sacrificed, and that sacrifice could be you. I've come to tell you that this does not need to be."

The placidity and false calm Morrigan injected into her every word set Ravenna on edge. She knew sarcasm was uncalled for, but she couldn't help herself. "What glad tidings." She sighed. "I need to change. Since you're here uninvited, I expect no protests or you can leave." Morrigan looked uncomfortable but offered no complaint as Ravenna removed the horrid borrowed dress.

"You don't know me very well if you think I'm afraid to die, or so attached to life that I need a way out." She pulled on a pair of soft leather pants and a black linen shirt. "But I am curious, how do you know about this?"

"I know a great many things. How I know is not as important as what I am offering you, however. I offer a way out. A way out for all Gray Wardens, so there need not be a sacrifice. A ritual... Performed on the eve of battle, in the dark of night."

"What a storyteller you'd make, Morrigan. Your mother said you had a fanciful imagination. What sort of ritual is this?"

Morrigan's patience was clearly wearing thin, but her soothing tone persisted. "It is old magic. From a time before the circle of magi was created. Some might call it blood magic, but that is but a name. There is far more to fear in this world than names."

"And where did you get this ritual, Morrigan?"

"From Flemeth of course. I have known about it for some time."

"So you knew about the sacrifice before Riordan told me?"

"I did. Would you have believed me if I had been the one to tell you? I have my doubts."

"Of course you do. Perhaps you were right not to tell me, but not because I wouldn't have believed you. Unlike Alistair, I have never idealized the Wardens. I have seen them for what they truly are. They poison their recruits. Most trade one death sentence for another. Duncan played on my parents' fears as they faced certain death to force their consent for my conscription. He let them die so he could have me." Ravenna was lost in memories for a moment. She wished Duncan had survived Ostagar. There were so many questions that would never be answered. She sighed and focused on the apostate mage standing before her. "Tell me about your ritual, Morrigan."

"What I propose is this: Convince Alistair to lay with me. Here, tonight. And from this ritual a child shall be conceived within me. The child will bear the taint, and when the archdemon is slain, its essence will seek the child like a beacon. At this early stage, the child can absorb the essence and not perish. The archdemon is still destroyed, with no Gray Warden dying in the process."

"Why bring this to me? Why not just go to him?" Ravenna quelled the jealousy and anger that threatened to overcome her._ Just to watch me suffer. I should have left her in the swamp for the darkspawn._

"I... He will listen to you, but he mistrusts everything I say."

"And now, so do I. We have been friends, Morrigan. I'm sorry you didn't value that enough to trust me. But I suppose your ritual would increase our odds of success. Tell him you know a ritual that will make the sacrifice unnecessary, and your price for performing it is a night in his bed. If he asks why, flatter him. He's sorely starved for praise, wherever it comes from. Don't tell him about the child or the blood magic and I think you can convince him on your own." Ravenna fastened a curved dagger to her belt and put her boots on. "Use this room if you want, and tell him I gave my approval, but it's his decision. I won't force him to be part of this."

"Very well. After this is done, you allow me to walk away... and you do not follow. Ever. The child will be mine to raise as I wish."

"As long as I never hear of you or the child, I will abide by that. I can't promise the same of anyone else." Ravenna donned a cloak and tucked a folded blanket under her arm, then turned her back on the apostate and forced herself to close the door gently.


	15. Chapter 15

She wanted to believe that Alistair would refuse Morrigan, but she knew he wouldn't. In the short term, at least, it was far better for everyone if Alistair went through with the ritual and increased their odds of success, but even though she was resigned to the idea of losing him, one way or another, she wasn't ready yet. He had never lain with another woman, and even though he was no longer the attentive, gentle lover he had been at first, he had always been _hers_. She convinced herself that even without the incentive of sparing them from the need of a sacrifice, the appeal of bedding someone new would probably be enough to sway him, though he'd never admit it.

She took a roundabout route to the roof and Zevran, and tried to steer her mind away from the image of Alistair with Morrigan. By the time she stepped into the cool night, she had stilled her mind. Zevran turned when she arrived. He was leaning against the low rampart with an open flask in his hand. "_Adoravana_, I did not expect you so soon. Dare I ask?"

"Morrigan wanted my help seducing Alistair. So I helped her. I don't want to spend my last night before charging off after the archdemon and its hoard dwelling on that image, though." She carelessly dropped the folded blanket on the ground. It wasn't really even cold enough to need the cloak, but she hoped they might find a use for it an the blanket.

"Perhaps I should have listened through the door. I find it difficult to imagine such a thing." He took a pull, then offered her the flask.

She took it and sniffed. _Brandy. Wonder if it's the bottle I gave him._ She drank deeply, relishing the burn then returned the flask to him. "I got the impression you had something to say to me earlier."

"I have heard some rumors. I wished to hear the truth of them from your lips"

"Leliana. That woman has to be stopped." She sighed "I'll sort it out if I can." Ravenna unfastened the cloak, then set her back to the rampart and slid to sit on the cold stones. Zevran did not join her on the floor.

"Rumor has it that His Majesty wishes to make you his Queen."

"True. But I believe he'll change his mind if he thinks about it a little. I'd make a poor Queen. Everyone would laugh at him for marrying me. If he doesn't see it, I'll tell him so. Can't give him an heir anyway."

"Ah. So that confirms the second item; that you will turn him down. Perhaps you have already?" Zev's interest was unmistakable, and it was easy to guess why he would be invested in her answer.

"Not in as many words. Someone as clever as you would have seen through me, but no one has accused him of being clever in my hearing. I doubt it will come to an outright refusal. Both of us are unlikely to survive the battles to come."

"Your certainty is troubling, _cara._ But such a battle is always a risk, it is true." They silently passed the flask between them a few more times, enjoying the night and the company. "I hope you forgive me, but you don't look well, my Warden. Is there something beyond the obvious burdening you?"

Ravenna thought of dozens of things, but very little she wished to talk about. "Nothing seems clear anymore, even as everything converges. The nightmares are getting stronger. The worst part is that while I dream, I share the archdemon's desires. It's not terror that wakes me, but ecstacy. When the dream begins to fade, I regain my sense of things, and that's when the horror hits me. There's darkness in everyone, but the taint... It's made me a monster. I kill darkspawn to prove to myself I'm not one of them, but I hear the same song, and in sleep, it overpowers me just as it does them."

"That is... Troubling. I suppose it must be a comfort to have companionship. Your lover shares your experiences." Zevran probed carefully. He didn't want to be too obvious, but the more he could drive home her dissatisfaction with Alistair, the better off she would be.

"Perhaps. I suspect we experience the dreams differently. I wouldn't want to talk about it with him. Actually, I don't even want to think about him right now." She stood and held his gaze. "Distract me."

A small smile quirked the former Crow's lips. "As you command, my Warden. How distracted do you wish to be?"

"I'd be happy to forget everything, even my own name for a few hours."

Zevran pulled a smaller flask from within his jerkin. "This may help." He opened the flask and took a small sip, then offered it to her. "Not too much, or you won't be ready to march with the army at dawn."

She took the flask and sniffed. It smelled strongly of anise, mint and something else she couldn't quite place. The flavor spread over her tongue only after she had swallowed the strong liquor, and she found the effect pleasant. "That wasn't what I was hoping you would offer, but it's delightful, just the same." She set the flask on the rampart and stepped closer, then she reached up to lightly trace a finger over the sweeping tattoo on his cheek.

The assassin's hand closed over hers. "Do you truly want this, _carina?_" Ravenna hesitated, and he dropped her hand. "Then, please, don't toy with me."

"I need this, Zev. I think we both do."

Zevran studied her face. "Need is a strong word, Ravenna." Before she could reply, he covered her lips with his own. He put her back to the rampart and enjoyed the feel of her unarmored body pressed against him. It had been so long since any of them had worn anything but armor, and the sensation of her warm flesh under only a thin layer of cloth was delicious. He tugged the hem of her shirt free of her belt and slid his hand over her belly, then traced the long ridge of a scar up her ribs, finally cupping a full breast and lightly squeezed her nipple. She pressed against him, wanting more contact, but he held back. She had been treated roughly far too often and he wanted to draw out every moment of pleasure until he fulfilled her request and she could forget everything except her ecstacy. There was time, and they wouldn't be interrupted.

The anise-flavored liquor had the effect of making her feel like she was floating. Every sensation was magnified and it was difficult to remember her context. The smell of well-cared-for leather mingled with Zevran's own scent. She could taste anise on his tongue more strongly than on her own and she savored it. He whisked her shirt over her head and his own followed. The stone rampart was rough and cold against her back, and the contrast it offered made her shiver.

She reached out to steady herself and her hand bumped the small flask with a rattle. She seized it to keep it from getting knocked over the edge. Zevran took it from her, and Ravenna used his distraction to slip out of the rest of her clothing. He took a long pull then capped and dropped the flask. His lips pressed hard against hers. When she parted her lips he fed her a mouthful of the herb-infused liquor. A trickle spilled from the corner of her mouth, which he caught with the tip of his tongue.

She took a steadying breath, the infused liquor was hitting her hard. "I need to lie down." Her head was swimming and her vision danced. _I can't pass out. I want this, dammit!_ She fought to regain her focus.

"Steady, _carina_. Let it carry you or it will overpower you." His voice was a soothing purr in her ear, but his breath stroking her skin had the opposite effect. He kicked their discarded clothing into a pile and guided her down.

She was clearly still struggling to handle her inebriation, so he took a moment to spread the blanket and remove his boots and belt before lowering himself to her side. "Better?" She threaded her fingers through his hair and nodded. "Are you certain you wish to do this, Ravenna? I would never boast of having you, but I won't be a sneak, either."

"Stop asking. I'm my own woman, I can fuck whomever I choose." She punctuated her statement by pushing him onto his back and straddling his hips. She kissed him passionately and Zevran's hands began tracing the scars that criss-crossed her body. He had been fascinated by them the night she spent in his tent, saying she was probably the most battle-scarred lover he'd ever had, even if he included the men. When he realized he had made her uncomfortable, he tried to reassure her, but he was largely unsuccessful, so he did his best to ignore them that night.

Instead of letting it make her feel self-conscious again, this time Ravenna closed her eyes and focused on the sensation. Scar tissue was less sensitive, but the undamaged skin to either side seemed hyper-sensitized. She couldn't predict where his hands would travel next, and she couldn't actually feel his touch, there was just the shiver of sensation whispering over her skin.

-/-

Ravenna woke from a nightmare with a start. Zevran had not slept, and when the nightmare began, he paid close attention to the woman resting against his chest. It seemed true that her cries weren't terror or distress, but excitement or ecstacy, though without her admission he wouldn't have been able to make the distinction. He thought he might have even seen her smile before she awakened. Watching her regain her senses also supported her earlier claims of what the nightmares truly were to her. He stroked her hair soothingly, "Only a dream, _cara._"

Her confusion vanished and she pulled the blankets closer. After some time on the roof, they had decided to move indoors. The bed in the room Zevran had been given was narrow, but even so, it seemed like a luxury to both of them. "It will be dawn very soon. You may wish to return to your own chambers before someone comes looking for you."

"I'm staying." She shifted so she could kiss him. He returned her kiss and slid his hand between her legs. She sighed with pleasure and parted her thighs to give him better access. He held himself above her and whispered into her ear every fantasy, lustful thought and explicit promise that she inspired in him. His deft hands caressed and teased, but never satisfied, never penetrated, until he had brought her to the cusp of her climax. When she pleaded for release, he positioned himself and pushed her over the edge as he sheathed himself inside her with a quick thrust. He rode her hard through her ecstacy, only a few moments that seemed to stretch on and on, and he was certain her cries would wake half the castle. He slowed his pace to allow her to recover. When she began lifting her hips to meet his thrusts again, he allowed himself to seek his own release.

-\-

Ravenna considered trying not to wake the former Crow, but as soon as she moved, he stirred. _I suppose he has to get up too._ She leaned close and kissed his jaw before rolling out of bed.

Zevran watched her dress for a few moments before sighing and getting up himself. The silence between them was heavy and Ravenna tried to think of something to say to him. She had mostly sobered and she didn't know where their night of passion left them. She pulled her boots on and tucked the cloak and blanket under her arm. No words offered themselves for her to speak, so she turned to leave.

"_Carina_, are you well?"

She offered him a weak smile, "Well enough. Thank you for the distraction."

"Merely a distraction? I had hoped it might be more. I must be losing my touch."

"Do you love me?" Ravenna was horrified that she had blurted out the question, but she tried to keep her face impassive while she watched his reaction.

He held her gaze and carefully considered his answer. _The truth, a lie, or a diversion? What does she want to hear, and what do I want to give her?_ "Shining, strong Ravenna... You stir memories of a woman I loved and regret casting aside. I desire and respect you. But love... neither of us can afford that, I think." Watching her struggle to hide the pain his words caused her put a lump in his throat, but he bit his tongue and forced himself to stay still.

She looked away and angrily berated herself for asking him. _When did I get so soft? I've let myself become vulnerable and weak._ "A distraction then, but a very good one. You haven't lost your touch. We'll have to do it again. Perhaps on Alistair's wedding night, if we survive."

"I shall hold you to that, regardless of who stands as his bride, _adoravana_." Ravenna's lips showed the tiniest quirk before she vanished through the door.


	16. Chapter 16

Alistair had been waiting in Ravenna's room since Morrigan left, excluding the time it took him to pour a bucket of water over himself and change his clothes. He had summoned a sleepy maid to change the linens, but he need not have bothered. Ravenna didn't return to her room. All night, his imagination supplied him with various scenes. In some, she was huddled in a corner somewhere, alone, with tears on her cheeks, heartbroken that he would betray her with the apostate. In most, her skin glistened with sweat as she writhed in another man's arms. Sometimes it was a faceless guard or soldier, but usually it was Zevran. The images drove him wild, he wanted to tear the castle down, brick by brick until he found her. Each time he stood to do just that, his mind returned to what _he_ had done this night.

Morrigan's skin was soft and smooth, completely unscarred and as pale as milk. Her hands had no calluses and her nails were gracefully tapered. She was fit, but nowhere near as muscular as Ravenna. When he compared the two women in his mind, it was Morrigan who stole the scene. She was graceful and beautiful. After spending an hour with Morrigan, he could tell that Ravenna was much more practiced, but the mage's relative inexperience made him feel powerful.

He didn't lie to himself, he knew that his appreciation of Morrigan was nothing but carnal lust. He didn't trust her and wasn't concerned for her well-being beyond how it might impact the rest of the party. Somehow, not caring for her hadn't diminished the pleasure of bedding her. She left immediately after they finished rather than resting in his arms, and that was the largest difference he could define. _I care about Rave, but maybe it isn't love. She's the first woman I had ever been with. The only one, until tonight. How would I know what love is supposed to feel like? It should be more than sex and more than friendship. Isn't that all Rave and I have?_

The sky was lightening and the sun would rise soon. He was about to leave when the latch turned and Ravenna quietly entered, locking the door behind her. She carelessly dropped a bundle of cloth on the floor and he realized she hadn't noticed him in the shadows yet. Ravenna combed her dark hair back with her fingers and let out a sigh. She muttered something under her breath and splashed her face with water from a basin.

"I wondered if I'd see you before the march."

Ravenna jumped at the sound of his voice. "Maker's breath!"A small dagger was in her hand. "What the hell are you doing in here?" When she realized who he was, she sheathed it.

Alistair rose and walked toward her. "Looking for you. Where were you all night?" When he reached her, he put his arms around her.

She tensed in his embrace and the silence hung between them. When she finally answered, her voice was a whisper. "You don't have any right to ask me that."

He tensed. Her accusation was enough to tell him more than he wanted to know. "You're right," he agreed, "I don't." He kissed her forehead and released her. She smelled like sex and leather and, unaccountably, of licorice. "And we can't really afford to be anything but unified right now." He felt sick, but the anger and jealousy drained away. There were bigger fights ahead of them.

"Most of the men are already armored and in the courtyard. We should hurry. They'll probably expect you to make some kind of speech."

"Maker. I haven't even been officially coronated and I hate being King already. At least I'll have my future Queen by my side." He flippantly flung the words at her to test her reaction. When Ravenna shifted uncomfortably, his anger and jealousy returned. "Maybe the Queen should give the speech. I've given the last five or so."

"You shouldn't let anyone hear you call me that; I'm just acting as your general. They may be willing to call you King before it's official, but right now I'm the King's mistress. You'd insult the nobility to call me Queen."

"Politics. I hate that part of being King, too." _King's whore. That's what Eamon's servants call her already. She was 'the Warden' until the Landsmeet. Now she's just my whore. I wonder if she knows._ Alistair took some comfort in the cruelty of her sudden drop in status. It felt good to have powerful men look to him for direction and it satisfied a dark part of him that Ravenna was no longer seen as his superior. Her noble blood was trumped by his own, and he was the senior warden. She had authority because he gave it to her.

"Being King isn't a punishment. You're doing well. Better than Eamon thought possible. I heard him say so." She tentatively slipped her hand into his and squeezed reassuringly.

"With you by my side, it could be something to look forward to." He tossed the words at her as if they were knives. When she offered him a weak smile, he dropped her hand. _She's not going to do it. She forced me to take the throne and now she's going to abandon me to it._ He stalked out of the room. It wouldn't take much to prepare, and he couldn't wait to leave Redcliffe behind him, even if he had to run directly into the heart of the hoard to do it.

Ravenna watched him go. Her gut twisted with guilt and self-loathing. If he had yelled at her, accused her of something, she could have handled it. She was certain he knew where she'd spent the night, and his response was that they could only _afford_ to be united._ Feels like he's mocking me. I still don't even know for certain if he participated in Morrigan's ritual or not. How could I ask? I suppose if we make it to the archdemon, I may find out._

_-/-_

Her face twisted into a grotesque mask as she plunged her sword through the archdemon's skull. Its death roar felt like it would shatter her bones. A blinding light and a wave of agony and despair washed over her. The archdemon's song reached a dizzying crescendo in her mind, then suddenly fell silent and she wept at what she had done. She ended it, she'd never hear the song again! The despair was crushing, and she heard her anguish echoed in the throats of all the darkspawn still standing in Denerim. Distantly, she felt her body crash against broken stone. When she hit, she felt, but didn't hear, several sharp snaps. The pain of the impact was completely overshadowed by the pain of the archdemon's death throes, but it was enough to send her into unconsciousness.

-/-

Voices drifted to her as if from very far away. She understood the words, but couldn't hold the meaning long enough to understand what was being said. The voice was familiar, but she couldn't ascribe a face or name to it. She tried to sit up so she could see, and the attempt sent her spiraling back into blackness.

"This can't wait forever, your Majesty. She may heal, eventually, but even your mage can't say why she still sleeps. Ferelden can't wait on her."

"Thank you, Eamon. That will be all." Alistair's voice was angry and terse. Ravenna felt herself coming more fully aware and she wished someone else were by her side. She didn't want to face Alistair if he was going to be angry with her.

"Darling, you've got to wake." His hands scooped up hers and he traced small circles on her palm with his thumb. "It's been days. Wynne's healed you as best she can. You shouldn't be hurt anymore."

The desperation and loneliness in his voice made her want to see him. She opened her eyes and turned toward his voice. She couldn't focus at first, his face was just a big blur. She blinked a few times, sending tears rolling down her cheeks, and his features appeared. Her voice was a dry croak, "Is it over?"

Alistair's eyes snapped up and his face brightened. "Rave, you're awake. Thank the Maker, I thought I'd lost you." He stood and leaned over her to plant a kiss on her brow.

With annoyance, she repeated her question, "Did I kill it?" Her voice was ragged with desperation, she was anxious to be told it was all just a dream. Perhaps instead of the deathblow, somehow she'd gotten caught by a direct blast of the archdemon's breath weapon and imagined it. An insane part of her hoped that was the case, but that hope made bile rise in her throat. _I'm a monster._

"You're a hero, love." His words were filled with pride. "It threw you halfway across the roof after you drove your sword through its skull. I couldn't even get to you for what seemed like hours because of all the panicked darkspawn. Even without an archdemon to unify them, they're dangerous. Wynne just abandoned the battle and ran to your side. The rest of us did what we could do draw them away so she could heal you."

_It's over, then._ She closed her eyes and more warm tears slid down her cheeks. _Monster. Weeping for a tainted god._ "You did it then. Morrigan was sincere."

"So it seems." His tone changed. It was as if, in his elation the she had regained consciousness, he had forgotten the tension and betrayal between them. Her reminder brought him back to the reality of their situation. "The wardens from Orlais have been asking questions about that. I'm playing dumb. Riordan is dead and no one really knows that he told us about the sacrifice. I just keep saying that Duncan never said anything about it, since that's true enough."

"That won't satisfy them. How hurt am I? I can hardly move and... things hurt."

"Wynne said she didn't know why you were still unconscious. She only finished mending your bones this morning so that's probably why you're still in pain. You're probably just wiped out from the battle and the healing. I'll send for Wynne and something for you to eat." He stood and left. Ravenna thought he looked weary. She had forgotten to ask how long it had been since the battle and she wondered how much of his time he had spent worrying over her.

_Eamon's probably just been pestering him. I doubt he's actually been at my bedside, waiting for me to recover._ She tested herself, and it seemed true that her body was whole. Her limbs felt weak and her hands shook, but she forced herself to sit up and put her feet on the floor. _Just a few days of being healed and missing meals. Nothing wrong._ She tried to reassure herself, but it felt like more. It felt like part of her had been burned away and she was raw all over. It wasn't a physical sensation, exactly, but she couldn't shake the impression. _Maybe the ritual only _mostly_ worked. Or maybe it's the taint..._ Her blood ran cold at the thought.

Ravenna dragged herself to her feet, using a night stand to steady herself. She got three steps before her legs collapsed and she fell painfully to the floor.

"Maker's breath, child! What do you think you're doing?" Wynne entered just in time to see Ravenna fall. The elderly mage hurried to help her up and led her back to the bed. "You need to regain your strength." She tucked the blanket back around Ravenna. "I don't know what was wrong with you, but I'm hearing whispers that no one has ever survived killing an archdemon before. You need to take it slowly."

A maid carrying a heavily-laden tray entered and left her burden on a table near the window. She curtsied and when Wynne waved a hand, hurried out, closing the heavy door behind her. Wynne lifted the cloth covering the tray and scowled. "This is too heavy, it's going to come right back up."

"Just bring me something and we'll see." Ravenna's mouth watered as the scent of warm bread and roast boar reached her. She hadn't felt hungry until the maid brought the tray, but now she thought she'd be happy to crawl across the room to get to the tray if she had to.

Wynne placed some of the roast on a slice of bread and poured a cup of water. "At least if your stomach objects, I won't be the one to clean it up. I suppose there are some benefits to knowing the King of Ferelden personally."

Ravenna forced herself to sip the water first. When her stomach didn't object, she tried a nibble of bread. "No one has survived. You heard correctly. And not just because they didn't have such a gifted healer to put them back together, from what I understand." She took a bite and chewed carefully, watching Wynne's response.

"Did you know you would survive?"

Ravenna shook her head. "The Wardens aren't going to believe me, though. They might kill me to get information I don't have."

Wynne scoffed, "You're the woman who ended the blight. They wouldn't dare."

"Wardens do whatever must be done. Will you help me convince them this was all dumb luck?"

Wynne folded her arms over her chest, her expression was stern. "I'm grateful for what you've done, Ravenna."

"At least consider it. When the wardens question you, tell them I was with child when I went into battle. My wounds would have ended a pregnancy anyway, so they won't question that I lost the child."

"I don't see how that helps you, and I don't see why I should lie."

"It's a small lie, and by this point, half of Ferelden knows it could have easily been true." Part of her quailed at the thought of so many people being aware of her affair with Alistair. She'd always been careful to make certain her actions didn't effect her reputation._ I suppose I'm the only Cousland left to disgrace, so it doesn't matter anymore._ She took a steadying breath and brought her attention back to the mage at her bedside. "Wynne, It will probably save my life. Do it, and I'll see that the Circle in Ferelden is freed of Chantry oversight."

Wynne's eyes widened. "That's a grand reward for a 'small lie.' Do you really believe that would be a wise decision?"

"It's clear that the strain of being captives of the Chantry is what drives most mages to drastic measures. The dalish aren't ruled by evil blood mages, or overrun by abominations, and it seems the tighter the Chantry's control over a Circle, the more blood magic and possession by demons they find. The Free Marches, for example."

"Even if I agreed with you, you don't have the power to do such a thing, my dear." Wynne busied herself by refilling Ravenna's cup and putting more food on a plate for her.

Ravenna waited until Wynne sat back down and met her gaze steadily. "You know I do. But it's your choice. When the Wardens come to ask me how I survived, you know what story I'll be telling them. No one else would be able to confirm it. My life's in your hands, once again."

Wynne looked troubled. She stood and placed her palms on Ravenna's temples. Magic connected them for a moment, surrounding them with a soft glow. It faded slowly and Wynne stood to leave, looking much wearier than when she had arrived. "Don't try to do anything you don't feel strong enough for. Your body is healed, but it seems there's something... perhaps just the taint."


	17. Chapter 17

Ravenna was given a single day to recover before she was informed that what was left of the capitol city had gathered to see her. She saw no one she knew all morning. The hands that brought her breakfast tray, combed and dressed her hair and then, begrudgingly helped her don her polished armor in lieu of the silk dress that had been chosen for her, were all those of strangers.

The smiles and demur curtsies, she felt sure, hid mocking laughter and derisive thoughts. She was still weak physically, and her emotional turmoil was taking its toll as well; guilt and shame for what she had done the last night in Redcliffe, horror at her reaction to the Archdemon's death by her hand.

She dreaded facing Alistiar in privacy. She didn't expect him to want her by his side anymore, but she feared he might hold her to her promises to stand by him as he took the throne. Part of her craved the power she would have by his side, even as an adviser but she forced all thoughts of political maneuvering away, for now.

By the time she left her rooms, it felt like a full grown mabari was sitting on her chest, driving the breath from her. She told herself it was just the weight of her armor, which, at the very least, wasn't helping.

One of the maids, Ravenna thought it was the one who seemed most familiar with the fastenings of armor, silently led her through the palace, to the assembled who wished to lay eyes on their savior, their hero. The great doors opened, and for the first time she could hear the crowd gathered outside. Everyone in the room turned to look at her as she entered the great hall, then after a hushed moment, resumed their conversations.

She numbly spoke with all who had traveled and fought beside her. Many of the nobles of the landsmeet were present as well, but she ignored all of them. She wanted to ask all of her companions to stay by her side, but even if she had, she knew they wouldn't. Instead, she thanked each of them and tried to keep her attention focused on what they had to say to her until she excused herself and moved on.

Zevran studied her curiously as they briefly spoke, but his tone was cold and he made a show of leering at some nobleman's daughter. Or maybe the bored looking young man politely listening to the girl was the true focus of his attention. Ravenna forced away her bitter jealousy and silently wished him luck before moving on.

Alistair presided over the gathering, but held himself aloof. She decided to approach him anyway, for the sake of appearances, if nothing else. As she reached his side, someone grabbed her elbow. White hot rage blanked her vision for a moment, how _dare_ anyone here touch her. The curved knife she wore at the small of her back was half-drawn before she checked her temper. Her voice was tense when she spoke, "Forgive me, reflexes that keep one alive on the battlefield..." She trailed off in shock when she saw who she was addressing.

"Don't make for good company. I never thought to see you alive, Sister." Fergus threw his arms around Ravenna, tears in both their eyes.

"Maker, where have you been, Fergus? After Ostagar I was certain you were dead, with everyone else." A hand flew to cover her mouth, "Sweet Andraste, tell me you've heard?"

Fergus nodded, sorrow etched his features. "I'm just glad to find you whole and hale, pup. I don't want to face Highever alone."

"I... I hadn't thought of returning, but if you intend to..." Ravenna trailed off when she realized Alistair was intently listening. She cleared her throat. "That's talk for another time." She turned to address Alistair, "Majesty, this is my brother, Teyrn Fergus Cousland."

Alistair's smile seemed genuine as he clapped Fergus on the back. "We've been introduced. I'm glad you've found your way back to her. Your sister has become very dear to me." His tone left little question as to what 'very dear' meant in this context, and Fergus' expression darkened.

The Teyrn visibly tensed and his tone was harsh. "I had heard... I suppose there's much for us to discuss, but now isn't the time." Fergus forced a little enthusiasm into his voice and turned to Ravenna once more. "I could hardly believe when I heard _you_ were the hero to end the blight. My little sister." He smiled crookedly. "You'll be in the history books for that. Never going to best that, am I?"

Ravenna chuckled, "Don't even try, Fergus." She sighed, "I suppose we should go take care of that mob outside. I assume you have something planned, Alistair?"

He nodded and took her hand, leading her to the doors at the end of the great hall. He leaned close and pitched his voice to avoid being overheard, "I'm going to announce you as my future Queen, like it or not. I can't stand Eamon throwing eligible noblewomen at me, hoping one will ensnare me. We'll discuss it more later, but try to look happy, will you, Dear?"

Ravenna's heart was in her throat, she wanted to snatch her hand away and flee, but the crowd of nobles, their allies and even several Orlesian Wardens she had failed to notice were pressing close behind them. The calculating part of her realized what a prime opportunity she was letting slip by. They weren't even halfway through the crowd and everyone was watching them. Her step faltered and she leaned on Alistair for momentary support, her face pained. She made a subtle show of halting her hand halfway to resting on her armored abdomen and composing her expression. Alistair looked to her questioningly and she shook her head, eyes set before her._ Maybe not enough to get the rumors flying, but it will support any that start up in the next week or so. I'll have to talk to Leliana this evening._ The doors opened, blinding her with daylight, deafening her with the noise of the crowd, and Alistair dropped her hand and stepped ahead of her to address his subjects.

"Pup, why would you ask that the mages be freed of Chantry oversight? It makes no bloody sense!"

"This again? We discussed this last night at length. You know what I think of the Chantry, Fergus. The circle is little better than a prison. And why the hell are you calling me 'pup' now? I've always hated it." Ravenna scowled at him and hoped her deflection would work. She didn't want _anyone_ asking why she wanted the mages freed.

"Someone needs to keep you in your place. I'm all you've got left, so I get to call you whatever I damn well please." Fergus's irritation was softened by the reminder that she was all _he_ had left as well.

Alistair smiled wistfully at the siblings' banter. "You're not _all _she's got, Teyrn." His expression changed to something less innocent, "I think I do an excellent job of keeping her in her place."

Fergus's expression soured. "That's my sister you're talking about, Majesty. Whether you intend to marry her or not, you've shown an appalling lack of respect."

Once, Ravenna would have blushed. She cast her eyes away from both men and tried to speak around the lump in her throat, "Fergus, don't. Neither of us knew you were alive. I'm sure Alistair would have asked your blessing in normal circumstances."

Her brother glared at her. They both knew that wasn't what he was referring to, but he let it pass. If she didn't want to talk about it, he would wait until she wasn't present. "I showed up before it was announced to the general public. One could argue there was time."

Alistair watched the siblings carefully. Fergus was a stranger to him, but he was pretty good at reading Ravenna. Clearly, she didn't want them to have this conversation and Fergus was going along with it. "I should have asked, it's just difficult to think of Rave as anything but completely independent. It didn't occur to me until I was about to present her. Better to ask forgiveness than make a fool of oneself in public for forgetting to ask permission."

"I'm not sure that's exactly how it goes, but I see your point." Fergus said with lack of humor.

"Although, I suppose now that we're on the subject. Rave, love, would you let us talk for a bit in private? I think there are some things we need to settle."

Ravenna froze. She didn't want to think about what the two would say when she left, but she knew there was no way to stop the conversation from happening. Slowly, she stood, and after kissing Fergus on the cheek and Alistair lightly on the lips, she left the sitting room.

When the door closed, Fergus discarded his mask of politeness. "So, may I speak freely, or will you have me imprisoned if I offend you?"

Alistair raised an eyebrow. "As you will. I'd like your friendship. I'm not certain what I've done to earn your ire, Fergus."

Fergus bristled, "You know exactly what you've done! She deserves better than to be treated like a tavern wench, she's the daughter of a teyrn. Your indiscretion has destroyed her reputation. She's not known as the Hero of Ferelden, but as the King's whore. After all she's suffered, you've made her a disgrace, a laughingstock."

"When I fell in love with her, I thought I'd be a gray warden for the rest of my life. I think we both half expected to die before ever seeing the archdemon. Maker knows it was almost true more times than I care to count. Discretion wasn't a high priority."

"My sister's always taken risks, but she hasn't ever let herself be such a fool over a man, not since... It isn't like her." Fergus finished lamely. It didn't feel right to speak of his sister to a stranger. He told himself that Alistair was no stranger to her, but it still made him uneasy.

"If it hadn't been me, it would have been Zevran or Leliana. I doubt her reputation would be much better off if either of them had been able to claim her first." A small voice inside him reminded that the assassin _had_ indeed claimed her first, igniting his jealousy and anger at her more recent betrayal. He still hadn't made time to confront her over that. "I don't know why she behaves as she does, but she's the only one you have to blame for her sullied reputation."

Fergus considered the King's words. "What has she told you of her past?"

"After she seduced me, don't scowl, if you know her at all you know that's exactly what she did, she told me she'd been betrayed by someone she trusted. We had a falling out later on, and I learned that for some reason she found that fucking every soldier that caught her eye was the way to deal with what she'd been through. If I'd known what a slut she was, I like to think I'd have resisted and saved myself a lot of heartache, but I didn't and honestly, I probably wouldn't have. She's a very charming woman, after all."

"Void take you, bastard. If you think so little of her, why marry her?" Fergus's rage was barely contained. His knuckles were white with strain and he was a breath away from violence.

_Because if I don't, she'll abandon me. She'll run off and leave me trapped, chained to this throne and at the mercy of these jackals in fine silks and jewels._ Alistair waited, half expecting Fergus to leap at him and break his nose. When it didn't happen, he spoke, "I don't expect her to go through with it. I've got half a dozen reasons to break off the engagement. Unfortunately, most will probably darken her reputation even further. That's actually what I'd like to speak to you about."

Fergus shook his head in disbelief. "You disgust me. I never imagined my sweet sister would debase herself with someone like you. You presented her to the crowds as your intended bride only yesterday, and you already have half a dozen reasons to break with her, _and_ you've been bedding her for almost a year. Did you ever care for her at all?"

"I loved her with my whole being. Or I thought I did. She was my first, so I think I must have confused lust with love. But even if I don't love her like I thought I did, like I wanted to, I don't want to lose her."

Fergus laughed bitterly. "Of course not. It's not every day you find a noblewoman who received training from an Antivan courtesan. Sure, you could go in for the real thing, but that's a much bigger scandal. At least Ravenna's Fereldan, noble, and no one knows you're just keeping her around because she fucks like a goddess."

"What? Why would she..." Alistair could hardly make sense of what he was hearing. He kept getting hung up on _Antivan courtesan_ and _fucks like a goddess_. "She's your _sister_, how could you know?"

"Maker's breath, don't even think I'd ever... she's fooled around with enough of my friends that I've heard more than any brother ever should. Believe me, I've bloodied noses and fattened lips, even stabbed one of them over it. And not one of them called her a slut, so I hope you appreciate my restraint."

"Why in the name of the Maker was she trained by a courtesan?" He couldn't make himself say _Antivan_, without thinking of Zevran and imagining him with Ravenna.

"It's a long story." Fergus considered denying Alistair more of an answer than that, but he wanted to defend his little sister. He didn't approve of her conduct, but he couldn't condemn her for it either and he believed if others knew her reasons, they would accept her choices as he did.

He took a deep breath, telling himself it was alright to tell Ravenna's secrets if it was to help her. "She wasn't just betrayed by someone she trusted, it was a boy from town that she was infatuated with. Somehow, he charmed her into sneaking out of Highever castle. He... sold her to settle his father's debt with some truly vile men. They demanded a ransom, but didn't release her when our father paid what they asked. The search parties didn't find her for more than a week. She was on death's door. Poor girl had been beaten, starved... raped."

Fergus drew a shuddering breath. He'd spent years trying to find some way to hunt down every one of Ravenna's attackers. That he had failed still cut at him. "We caught and questioned some of the men who did it. One of them was actually proud of what they'd done, he told us everything. I can't imagine how she survived and didn't lose her mind. The description was horrific, the reality must have been hell. When they were done, they let a dog mount her, but I don't think she remembers, or I doubt she'd have wanted a mabari of her own.

"I wish we'd skipped the questioning, but I'm glad to say they suffered mightily before dying. Of course it couldn't be enough and we never found some of them, including the boy who sold her. She was such a delicate, charming little lady before it happened. Sweet and bright and happy. Naive and completely innocent. They destroyed her. It was years before she could control her panic at being in a man's presence. Even Father and me." Fergus's voice broke, and he stood to pace.

"Maker... She never said. I knew it must have been something like that, but I never imagined it was that... horrible. You know, I can actually picture her like that. It's pretty much the opposite of the woman I know and I don't think she's just putting on a facade, but somehow I can see it."

Fergus nodded, then continued his explanation, pleased with Alistair's reaction. "We got some semblance of her back when she learned to fight and defend herself, but the girl she had been never came back. And fighting wasn't enough for her, either. So then our mother had the _dama_ brought in to teach her... other things. I don't know why it worked, but she stopped breaking her mirrors and learned to smile and laugh again. When the _dama_ left, she stayed in her room again until I brought her out on patrol with me one day. After that, she never missed a patrol. I found out fast what she was doing with the men at arms, but she kept it quiet. I don't think our parents ever found out, and she seemed happy enough."

Fergus leaned against the mantle and stared at the fire for a moment before continuing. "I managed to cover her tracks a little further by reviving an old folk tale, and as unbelievable as it seems, I think the men actually started to believe it was the truth. She wasn't just Ravenna Cousland, but the spirit of a legendary battle maiden. Though her lovers boasted, they didn't treat her differently in the morning or become jealous when she moved on to the next man. "

"That... That truly is unbelievable." Alistair's amazement at the story he'd just been told rapidly gave way to anger that he hadn't heard it from Ravenna, but from her brother. "Why do you suppose she would have kept that from me?"

"Well, we talked last night and she says she fell in love with you like she hadn't since the boy who sold her. I can only imagine that it terrified her. And she probably thought you'd judge her for how she put herself back together, and rightly so if your tone is any indicator. I wish she had taken her own warning to heart."

Alistair rubbed a hand over his face. He was beginning to see his fellow warden in a new light, but it still didn't excuse her betrayal. "Be that as it may, I have a very... unsuitable fiancee, and I need to break the engagement at some point, for both our sakes. On top of everything else, she's been dallying with the crow assassin that traveled with us. And it's very unlikely that she'll be able to produce an heir."

Fergus's brow furrowed. He was disturbed to learn that Ravenna had not only spared an assassin who had taken coin to end her life, but had spent months traveling with him. If she had also become intimate with him, she was taking blatant risks. He hoped it wasn't a turn toward self-destruction. "Is that speculation or do you know?"

Alistair wasn't sure what statement Fergus had in mind, but he realized that the answer was the same, either way. "I know. So you can see some of the reasons why I can't marry her, but I don't intend to give her up, assuming we can work out a few problems. She promised to stay by my side if I took the crown, and I'll hold her to that."

"What? How could you do that to her? The whole country is already whispering about her and it's got to be absolutely mortifying to her."

"You clearly hate me. If you publicly object to the marriage, you can absorb some of the damage for calling it off. You'll look like a controlling ass for doing it, but otherwise, I'll have to hang Zevran Arainai for defiling my intended and set her aside for allowing a murdering whoreson to bed her. Or I could say that after her miscarriage, she won't be able to produce an heir. I'd rather not get the gray wardens involved, but that's another option. One of us on the throne is bad enough, but two. I suppose I could make it really exciting and do it all, but I thought you might prefer to help me out and preserve whatever's left of her honor."

Fergus decided to publicly object at the next possible opportunity. He would enjoy it. There had been rumors about the crow assassin, but given Ravenna's relationship with Alistair, he had dismissed them. However, the venom with which the King spoke the man's name made him believe that Alistair was convinced of the truth of those rumors. There had also been whispers that the reason for the ill match was indeed an unexpected pregnancy and an overly noble sense of fatherly duty on Alistair's part. Fergus had to ask, "Was she truly pregnant?"

Alistair shrugged, "So she claims. I've actually only heard it from Wynne and various rumors, but I'm inclined to believe it. Then I remember that boon Rave asked for and I'm not so certain."

"If you believe it, you don't seem to care very much." Fergus's opinion of Alistair was low, but as a man who had lost his own son, the King's cavalier attitude about this made the teyrn of Highever begin to truly hate his sister's lover.

"I care deeply, but if she was, she lost the babe. And worse, it was her own fault. It's true enough that her injuries and... other conditions will likely prevent another pregnancy, anyway."

"If you'll excuse me, Majesty, I think I'll retire. I have no stomach for more conversation tonight." Fergus didn't wait for an answer before turning on his heel and retreating, closing the heavy door behind him.

Someone was in the hall just outside the King's apartments. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the gloom and the figure drew itself up. "Oh, Maker. Pup, did you hear?" His voice was hushed and he tenderly put his arm around her shoulder.

"Stop calling me that. That wasn't yours to tell, Fergus. I..." Her voice faltered and she looked away from him, "Never tell anyone again." Her voice was a bare whisper, it was all she could manage and keep control over the tears trying to break free.

He pulled her close and stroked her hair, "Never. I'm so sorry. I couldn't stand him speaking of you like that. I thought that if he knew..."

"Knowing doesn't make anything easier." She pushed away from him and still couldn't meet his gaze. "Why did no one tell me that Torin got away? Why did no one tell me... about..." She couldn't continue, but she didn't need to. "It doesn't help." She pushed past him and re-entered Alistair's sitting room without knocking.


	18. Chapter 18

"Alistair?" Ravenna called quietly when she found he was no longer sitting before the fire.

He sat at his desk, in the shadows. Clearly he wasn't working. "Rave. What are you doing here?"

She sat on the couch he had previously occupied, even though it put her back to him. "I'm tired of putting this off. I know you don't intend to make me your wife, but you won't let me leave Denerim. What do you want?"

Alistair sat down beside her and was silent a moment before speaking. "I want for you to be all I thought you were all those months ago, before you found out I was Maric's bastard."

"Sorry to disappoint. On the positive side, you'll be able to pick a bride who is all those things. Where does that leave us?"

He sighed, "You know, I've been asking myself that same question. I felt terrible about what I did with Morrigan and even worse about how much I loved it. Until you came back reeking of_ Antivan_ leather and sex. At least when I laid with Morrigan it was to save our lives. What was your excuse?"

Ravenna hung her head. _So he knew. _"You were with Morrigan."

Alistair folded his arms over his chest."Not good enough, you sent her to me. You offered us your own bed so Eamon wouldn't know what I was up to."

She clenched her fists and dug her nails into her palms. It didn't make her admission easier. "I needed it. I know you don't understand, but it's the truth. You've been so angry with me since... I was captured. I had to know you didn't have me trapped."

His jaw tightened and he closed his eyes. "I just wanted you to trust me, but you keep running from me, turning to Zevran. How much of what I had to hear from your brother did you confide in him?"

She steeled herself. His tone was deadly calm, and she feared if she told him the truth it would break into a storm of jealousy and anger. _I don't care. Maybe if I make him angry enough he'll let me go. _"Zev has heard a little of my perspective of the story my dear brother just told you. It's a story I never would have shared with you." She bit her tongue. She wanted to finish by telling him _why_, but he might forgive her if she did.

"Why not? Why am I not good enough for you?" Alistair stood and began pacing. He shook his head ruefully, "And how in the hell do _you_ make me feel inadequate? The thing that terrifies you more than anything is that you might grow to love and trust someone. You've defiled and debased yourself countless times so you could be sure no one would ever want to care for you, and when it happened despite your efforts, you did everything you could think of to destroy it. That's the truth, isn't it?"

When Ravenna failed to respond, he knew he'd figured it out. He was angry with himself for not seeing it sooner. "It's always going to be like this if I keep trying to love you, so I guess there's no point." He drew a deep breath, trying to decide what else he wanted to say. She didn't seem in the mood to argue, so it would be a good time to make a few decrees, he supposed, get a few questions answered if she would speak. "Were you really pregnant, Rave?"

She didn't hesitate. "Yes. There wasn't time to tell you." The lie was easy and she was glad he was giving her the chance to tell it.

"How could you put our child in such danger? Maker help me, I can't believe you still find ways to shock me." He banished the image of what his child might have looked like, what it might have been like to hold a little one in his arms, but the thought wouldn't release its hold on him. "I could have been a father."

"I'm sure you still will be. And I owe my life to that child, I believe. Morrigan didn't have a ritual, she just wanted you. Why else flee before the final battle? She knew if either of us survived, we'd kill her for the lie."

"But... That doesn't make sense. Morrigan despised me, and if there was no ritual, how are you alive?"

"Get used to women wanting you, I suspect you'll face more of it in the future, regardless of how they feel about you personally. And as to how I survived... I can only guess. The babe carried the taint and it may have drawn the archdemon's soul into itself, destroying both. The child would have died from the wounds I took, anyway. I shouldn't have carried a child into battle, but given the other options, I think it was for the best." Her voice was distant and her eyes slowly closed as she stared into the fire. "For what it's worth, I wish I hadn't survived."

Alistair's lips were pressed into a thin line. _What do I say to that? I wish you hadn't either? Am I so bad you'd rather die than fulfill your promise to me? No mother should sacrifice her child for her own life?_ He was suddenly very weary. "I have more questions."

Ravenna nodded. Her eyes were still closed and she didn't speak.

He sat beside her again, not touching her. "What do you expect me to do with your lover? I could have him executed for the attempt on our lives, or for defiling the betrothed of the King."

Alarmed, Ravenna's eyes flew open, "Alistair, please. I know you hate him, but he stood with us. He risked his life countless times for us. Besides, if you punish him for sharing my bed, you'll be expected to treat me at least as harshly."

"Huh. Hadn't thought of that. Pity. I have to admit I'm disappointed that you flew to his defense. I suppose that means you lied about how you felt about him. Tell him to stay away from you."

Ravenna scowled. "I told you before, I won't give up a friend because you're jealous, Alistair."

"Oh, no, that's not going to work anymore, Rave. Stay away from him or I'll throw him in a dungeon. You're the only one who will miss him, and without an execution I wouldn't even have to level any charges."

"You're certainly getting used to being in command. Seems you don't need my help at all. Why do you even want me around?"

Alistair raised an eyebrow and reached out to caress her cheek, "You don't really have to ask, do you?"

She knocked his hand away. The tender gesture felt mocking and she resented him for the sarcasm in his voice. "So I'm to warm your bed until you find a wife. What then?"

Alistair scowled and drew her closer. "It's not exactly my place to make the appointment, but given that you're the only other Fereldan gray warden, I'm going to insist on you as the Warden Commander. I suppose my dear wife will want you out of the picture, but until the wedding, I want you close." He cupped her cheek and kissed her. She kissed him back reluctantly.

Annoyed with her lack of enthusiasm, he broke away and leaned his head against the back of the sofa. She rested her head against his chest and he threaded his fingers through her dark hair. "As a gray warden myself, I suppose I'll have reason to meet with the Commander of the Gray when I see fit."

Ravenna's heart sank. She wanted to return to Highever and try to rebuild the life she had lost. It was impossible, she knew, but she still wanted it. Quietly, she asked, "What if I say no?" His hand tightened painfully in her hair and she felt him tense.

"Don't." The threat in his tone was plain. He tightened his grip on her hair further and made her look him in the eye. "You're the one who taught me that I should take what I want. After all I've done for you and all the things I've forgiven, you had better not complain now." He claimed her mouth with his own, then bit her lip hard enough to draw a drop of blood. She drew a sharp breath and tried to pull away from him. Angrily, he stood and pulled her to her feet. "Enough of this. You're _mine_ and I haven't had you since before we left for Redcliffe."

Ravenna forced herself to remain calm. _He's scared and hurt and he doesn't want to be alone. I can either give him what he wants or he's going to take it._ She met his gaze and within a few heartbeats, he released his hold on her hair. _Good. Later, he's going to pay for that._ Before he could speak again, she threaded her arms around his neck and passionately kissed him, flicking her tongue against his, then nipping his lower lip. Her hands slid down over his chest and lower, to unfasten his breeches. She kept his mouth busy until she had freed the length of him. A few light strokes brought him to full erection and had him thrusting slightly into her hand.

A ragged moan escaped his lips, and while he was distracted, she went to her knees and took him into her mouth. At first, she only took the first few inches, flicking and teasing with her tongue. When he began bucking his hips toward her, she slowly took more of him into her mouth. Too slowly, for him. His hand fisted in her hair once again and he pulled her closer, thrusting deeper into her throat.

She had been trained to open herself, suppress her gag reflex and synch her breathing to his thrusts, so she relinquished control to him. His pace quickened and with every thrust, he buried himself as completely as her body could accommodate. She forced her body to accept the abuse and pressed herself toward him with every thrust while her hands were busy cupping and gently rubbing his balls. Unable to slow enough to prevent it, her saliva dripped down and soon coated his testicles, and her fingers. Carefully, she slid a lubricated finger into his ass. He tensed and his breath caught, she thought he was going to object, but as her probing finger found its target, his cock jumped in her mouth and he gasped. She pressed a little harder and stroked him with a 'come hither' motion.

A low moan escaped his lips, "Void take me, don't stop." She didn't. A second finger joined the first and he resumed fucking her face. After what seemed like an eternity, his rhythm became irregular and his breath was ragged. She lightly tugged his balls away from his body and pressed a little harder on the bundle of nerves inside his body. He cried out and forced his cock further into her mouth as he came. Ravenna held her breath and buried her face against him, struggling to swallow the seed that sprayed deep down her throat.

Finally, he released his hold on her and she made herself slowly, slowly pull her mouth off him, though her body ached for air. She gently slid her fingers out of his ass, then sat back on her heels as he collapsed onto the couch, panting, eyes closed, his pants and smalls still hanging around his thighs. She stood and went to the adjacent bed chamber, which held a basin, pitcher of water and some towels. After cleaning her face and hands, she picked up a clean towel and brought it to Alistair, who hadn't moved.

"Rave, that was the best orgasm I've ever had. Ah!" He started at the touch of the towel she was using to dry him.

A smile tugged at one corner of her flushed mouth. "Good. If you ever want more like it, though, you're going to have to prepare yourself properly."

"What the hell does that..." His eyes widened when she waggled her fingers at him. "Oh. Maker, is that what it feels like for you when I..."

She raised an eyebrow, amused. "No. You cock is huge compared to my two fingers. And there are other differences." She smiled coyly at him, "Since you liked the sensation so much, I'd love to help you explore it. With the proper preparations, next time." She tossed the towel to the floor and climbed up onto his lap, straddling him. She brushed a kiss on his lips before arching her back and pulling her shirt over her head.

"Right. Preparations. You'll have to help me with that, I think. What are you doing?"

"Hm?" Ravenna paused in removing her bra, then flung it over her shoulder. "This? Well, it seems you want me to be your whore, but frankly, that's beneath me." Her expression and actions were inviting, sultry, but her tone was cold. "And what self-respecting _concubine _would deny her king the sight of her body? Don't let it distract you, unless you want to be distracted. I hear I'm not really much to look at with all the scars." She placed her maimed shield hand on his thigh behind her and ran her other hand over her breasts, teasing one nipple to attention, then the other. "Then again, I also hear I've got a pretty nice rack."

Alistair reached up to fondle her breasts and she threw her head back and moaned. He cleared his throat, "I don't understand what the hell just happened. A few minutes ago you wanted nothing to do with me." His hands tightened, squeezing her breasts. "Not that I don't love the change, but I want you to explain yourself."

She rose up onto her knees, bringing her bare chest close to his face, and began unbuttoning her pants. "You're not letting me go, and you don't seem to think you love me anymore." With a little shimmy, she pushed her pants down as far as her pose would allow, exposing her panties. "Either I take pleasure in pleasing you, or I make myself miserable over it. It's an easy choice to make." She grabbed the back of the sofa to stabilize herself and used the other hand to slip her soft leather boots off her feet, brushing her breasts against his face in the process.

The boots fell to the floor with two soft thuds and she rolled off his lap and sat beside him long enough to doff her pants. "You almost look disappointed. Did you want me unwilling? If you want, I'll struggle, pretend to fight you off."

His gaze burned into her and his cheeks colored. "If it's a game... Maker help me, yes."

"Very well. Call me Cousland if you want me willing instead. The game is over if I call you Theirin. If you force me after that, it's rape. " She didn't remove her smalls, but she turned her back on him and slowly walked toward the bed chamber, rolling her hips with every step. In the doorway she looked over her shoulder at him. "Join me when you're ready, Majesty." She crooked a finger before disappearing into the shadows.


	19. Chapter 19

Sweat trickled down Ravenna's neck and beaded on her forehead, and her arms ached from exertion. The guardsmen that always seemed to follow her around were taking turns in the ring against her. Three times, she had faced off against each of the two men. They were well-trained, and Ravenna wasn't keeping score, but she thought she had generally bested them each round. She knocked her opponent's sword away with her shield and took advantage of the brief opening. "Enough. Thank you both." She turned away, sheathing her sword and relaxing her grip on the shield.

"I didn't believe the stories about gray warden stamina, but by the Maker, I do now. Your technique is very difficult to account for, as well. When an opponent has a shield, we're taught to expect a siege, but you're nimble and bloody fast, Lady Cousland."

"Thank you, guardsman. But I'm not a lady, and gray wardens have no family but the order. It's just Ravenna, please." Soon, she expected she could claim the title of Warden Commander, but as yet, she hadn't received the appointment.

"Uh... Sorry, Warden Ravenna." The guardsman bobbed his head and blushed.

Ravenna waved a hand dismissively. "I don't know who I'm supposed to be, myself, half the time. So, I assume you two are on duty when you follow me around, not just stalking me?" She waited for acknowledgment, then continued. "Are you protecting me or are you reporting everything I do back to the King?"

The guard who hadn't spoken to her stiffened and remained silent, but the talkative one didn't disappoint her. "The King is rightly concerned for your safety. We're only to report if we believe you're putting yourself in undue danger."

"I see. I assume that includes associating with a list of people he finds 'undesirable' or dangerous."

The man shifted uncomfortably, "It's for your protection, la... Warden."

Ravenna ignored him and stalked to the armory, tossing the armor she had borrowed to the floor in a heap, piece by piece. She left it lying there. _Let someone else clean it up. I'm sure it's someone's job, anyway._ Her sweat-soaked clothing clung to her and she longed to peel it off as well, but of course she couldn't. Instead, she headed back to her room. On the way, she informed a maid that she wanted a bath. She didn't feel like dealing with a chatty woman who felt she had business in her room, so Ravenna took a stroll through the garden and circled through the palace before turning once more toward her quarters.

When she finally neared her door, she slowed. "You can stop following me. Go tell the King about our sparring session, or whatever. No, wait..." She spun on her heel and the men following her nearly plowed into her. She threw her arms around the talkative guard's neck and kissed him soundly. The man was shocked, but his arms reflexively went around her. Suddenly, she broke away and turned her back on him.

"_Now,_ go report. Tell him next time I won't settle for a kiss and I'll make use of _anyone_ he has following me, not just one of you. I don't like being guarded, but I do like to find other uses for men like you." She grinned impishly when she imagined the blush on the man's face and the scowl on his partner's. Alistair would be livid when he heard. Her grin faded when she realized the guard would probably lose his post. "And if he punishes you for that, send word to me and I'll make it right."

She locked the door behind her, leaving the key turned in the lock so no one, even with a key of their own, would be able to disturb her. The bath was drawn and waiting for her, so she wasted no time flinging her sweaty clothes to the floor and stepping in. Unfortunately, the tub was on the small side and the water was only a little better than tepid; not suitable for a soak, only a utilitarian wash, so she hurried.

Before the water could cool further, she stood and wrapped a towel around herself. The air was chilly, but the maid had also set a fire. She pulled a shirt from the wardrobe and donned it in place of the towel before curling up on the rug by the hearth with a blanket. The warmth after the vigorous training session made her sleepy and she allowed herself to doze.

Her eyes flew open at a light sound behind her and she bolted upright to find the source. A familiar form waited in the shadows. "Zev, what the bloody hell are you doing in here?"

The elf grinned roguishly, "I need more excuse than a scantily clad woman to sneak into places I should not be?"

Ravenna forced herself not to look for weapons. If the Crow was here to kill her, she would let him. "Didn't things work out with that Bann's son, then?"

He raised an eyebrow, "It seems I was less discreet than I intended. Sadly, no. He told me in no uncertain terms that we were simply not meant to be, though he appreciated the experience."

"I'm sure he did." Ravenna kept her tone carefully neutral. "My sympathy. Is that all? You realize that if Alistair finds out I spoke with you, he'll probably throw you in a dungeon. If he finds out it you watched me bathe he'll execute you."

"You have never struck me as the sort of woman who would appreciate such possessiveness. Your lover is certainly the jealous sort. But I'm here for you, _mia cara_, not him. Do _you_ wish me to leave?"

Ravenna sighed and settled more comfortably on the rug. "Not particularly. You know, he refers to _you_ as my lover."

Zevran raised an eyebrow and sat on the floor beside her. "Not inaccurate, but he does seem to be overly worked up about it. You and I have shared but two nights together, while he had you to himself for months." When her expression darkened, he hurried to change the subject. "But never mind that, how are you, _cara_? Rumors run rampant, and most contradict all the others."

She stared into the flames, wondering what to say. Zevran had an uncanny knack for getting past her guard, and after their last night together, she had decided she was entirely too trusting with the assassin. But she desperately needed a friend, and she didn't care much if he was planning to do something sinister with any information she gave him. He was _here_ and no one else was. "I'm very alone. Alistair is quietly shopping for a bride while parading me around as his intended. Fergus is furious, but he's already publicly objected and there's not much else he can do. If I was not a warden, his disapproval of the match would be enough to end it. Technically I'm not a Cousland anymore."

The Antivan scowled. "He does this to prevent Eamon or someone else from manipulating his options, I assume?"

Ravenna nodded. "Instead, he's relying on Fergus and I to make introductions. It's more than a little awkward and word is getting out."

"Yet, you still share his bed. Why is that, if he insults you so?"

"Ah, how the rumors fly." Ravenna contemplated her answer and wondered why she allowed this conversation in the first place. Suddenly angry, she snapped at the tattooed assassin, "Are you defending my nonexistent honor, or is it jealousy? Either way, don't. I'm the King's whore, after all."

The elf frowned. "That is beneath you, _carina_."

Ravenna laughed mirthlessly and her tone was sarcastic. "I told him that, so to my face he calls me his concubine. Thus, my wounded pride is soothed." She sobered and her voice was cold when she continued her explanation. "I'm good at it. It's simple, and I know you understand that. I don't have to love him this way." Ravenna was suddenly very tired. She didn't want to talk anymore. "Why do I trust you, Zev?"

"I've wondered that, myself, though I enjoy that you do." He turned her to face him, "You say you no longer have to love him, but do you anyway?"

Ravenna turned her face away. "It seems love is a luxury I can't afford, Zev."

His hand dropped and for a moment, Ravenna thought he looked very sad. "Ah, I see. It _is_ a costly thing." In an instant, the mask was back in place and she wondered if she had imagined it.

"I don't know what he'd do if I tried to leave, but he made it clear he doesn't intend to let me go until after he's married. Maybe not even then. He's got his eye on someone, but Fergus won't tell me who. I think he's afraid I'll spoil things somehow. My dear brother doesn't believe that I'm as eager as anyone for the King to find a wife. But you're not just here for gossip, are you?"

"I am here for _you. _If you wish to talk, then I wish to listen, and no one will hear a word of it from my lips."

"Everything I do is on public display, Zevran. For the sake of your safety, you must keep this visit a secret, but I don't doubt there will be rumors anyway. Would you care to help distract me?" She leaned closer, tilting her head back slightly, and skimmed her hand over his chest.

The elf drew away slightly and placed a hand over hers to still it. "If only there were more time. Alas, I am expected elsewhere and it will be easier to slip away before your guards return."

Ravenna withdrew, trying not to let her disappointment show. Friendship was enough. Even that was risky, but anything more put his life on the line, and for nothing he couldn't easily find elsewhere for less risk. "Don't let me keep you, then. It was good to see you."

"Here, it seems an appropriate moment to give you this." The elf held out his hand, a jeweled earring resting on his palm.

Ravenna waved her hand and didn't move to take it. "You don't need to give me anything, Zevran."

"I may not need to, but I want to. I acquired it on my very first job from the Crows." He looked pleased when Ravenna tentatively picked it up, turning it over to inspect it. "A Rivaini merchant prince, and he was wearing a single, jeweled earring when I killed him. In fact, that's about all he was wearing. I thought it was beautiful and took it to mark the occasion. I've kept it since... and I'd like you to have it."

"Why are you giving me this? It doesn't seem like you to offer your conquests jewelery."

Zevran frowned. His tone became chilly. "Don't get the wrong idea about it. You killed Taliesen. As far as the Crows will be concerned, I died with him. That means I'm free, at least for now. Feel free to sell it, or wear it... or whatever you'd like. It's really the least I could give you in return."

"So... not a token of affection or a gift, but payment? I don't want you to pay me for _anything _I've done for you." Ravenna shoved the earring back into his hand.

"I... look, just... just take it. It's meant a lot to me, but so have... so has what you've done. Please, take it." He held the jewel out to her once again.

Ravenna's eyes narrowed. His slip didn't go unnoticed, but if he was unwilling to be honest about the token, she didn't want it. "Despite what may be commonly believed, I'm not a whore or a sell-sword. I'll only take it if it means something."

Zevran stood, his anger plain. "You are a very frustrating woman to deal with, do you know that? You do not hesitate to pick up every other bit of treasure you come across, but not this. You don't want the earring? You don't get the earring. Very simple." He tucked the bit of jewelry into a pocket and left without another word.

Ravenna held her breath as the key rattled in the lock and he quietly shut the door behind him. She wondered if she would see him again. Something inside her felt about to break, but she furiously shoved aside her doubt and regret and sprawled out on the rug once more. What kind of fool must she be to confuse lust and the desire for affection for anything more? And what was Zevran thinking to encourage her?


	20. Chapter 20

The cold stone rang with her steps, seeming too loud for her soft tread. It took conscious effort for Ravenna not to cringe at the sound and take greater pains to soften her steps further. _This is my domain,_ she reassured herself, _I have every right to be here._ The corridor ahead was unlit, so she lifted a torch from its sconce and continued. The path her feet followed was familiar and eventually her disquiet eased and her thoughts turned inward.

Weeks had passed, and as time went on, Ravenna saw less and less of the King. He devoted his spare time to courting the girl he intended to make his queen. Most of it, anyway. Ravenna was officially given the title of Warden Commander in Ferelden, with a strong implication from the wardens representing Weisshaupt that she would be replaced as soon as the political climate allowed.

She didn't care. As a teyrn's daughter, her lessons concerning politics and leadership had not been neglected and she found her mind turning to how she might leverage those around her to gain a more favorable situation. By the time the wardens got around to replacing her, she intended to have long since made herself utterly irreplaceable to as many people in positions of power as possible. Being closely connected to the king, even in such a scandalous way, was very useful to that purpose.

Commanding the loyalty of the men and women she was expected to recruit was another top priority. She had not only license, but the duty to build what she intended to make her personal army. She didn't want power for its own sake, and she cared nothing for amassing wealth, but she desperately wanted the power to decide her own fate and to know she was under no one's power but her own.

Already, she had begun gathering recruits and training with them. She lacked the ability to perform the joining until someone with more knowledge of the ritual was sent to her, but that was no reason not to begin her work. She had been given Fort Drakon to use as her base of operations in Denerim, and she often wondered if Alistair had chosen the site of her imprisonment and torture at Loghain's hands intentionally–perhaps hoping she would shirk her duty in favor of avoiding the place.

If she was honest with herself, her stomach dropped every time she crossed the threshold, and she often found herself wandering to the dungeon, as she did now, as if to reassure herself that the place was no longer in use. The torture chambers had been scrubbed clean, but still held the cruel implements on which so many had suffered, and the cells that once held prisoners had similarly been cleared. It didn't matter–it was as if the suffering, fear, and despair had seeped into the stone and iron.

Seeing the cages and torture racks empty reassured her very little, but it quieted her irrational fears that she was, in truth, still a prisoner of those cells, merely dreaming this life as she awaited more torture and eventually her execution. If she ever doubted it, her obsession was proof that part of her had never escaped her captivity. In her darker moments, she wondered what could possibly be left of her after the many times the events of her life had destroyed something of her.

Her trek had taken her to what she was certain was the torture chamber in which she'd lost her fingers. The heavy table she'd been secured to stood alone in the center of the room. She lightly ran her gloved fingertips along its scared and stained surface, resting on the deep score she imagined was the evidence of the cut that had taken her fingers. An almost hysterical urge to lie atop the table and confirm her suspicions came over her, but she couldn't bring herself even to touch the wood with her maimed hand and suddenly she wanted to run. She felt like she couldn't breathe and she had the irrational sense that she would find the doors leading back to the barracks and her own quarters locked.

She turned on her heel and steadily left the chamber, unhindered, of course. She forced her pace to reflect a calm she didn't feel, ignoring her rising panic and racing heart, slowly climbing back into the lit parts of the fort. When she reached the empty sconce that was meant to hold the torch in her hand, she felt like she'd been drowning and had somehow broken the surface, cheating death and gasping for life.

Some of the recruits had learned that she often wandered the fort, usually gravitating toward the dungeon and she frequently had returned to this point to find a messenger waiting for her, or one of the recruits who wished a word with her. Her hand shook as she replaced the torch, and she was glad no one was there to see. She drew a shuddering breath and uselessly wiped her gloved hands on her thighs, trying to dry her sweating palms.

She allowed her step to quicken, and as she rounded the next corner, she nearly collided with an elven man in leather armor. For a split second, she thought it was Zevran before she recognized him as one of her recruits.

"Kirran, Maker's breath, what's chasing you, man?"

"Commander, I'm so sorry. The King sent for you hours ago, but no one knew were you were."

"The Fort isn't that big, surely if it was urgent..."

"The messenger didn't say it was urgent, but now the King's here himself. He's waiting downstairs." There was an unspoken question in the elf's eyes. He was one of a few of her recruits who had put together the facts that the rumors about the Warden Commander and the King were in fact true and that she wasn't pleased with the arrangement.

"Of course." Ravenna closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. Suddenly her head was pounding. "Please run ahead and tell him I'll meet with him in my office shortly, recruit."

"Commander, he's in your quarters."

"Damn him. Fine. I won't make it an order, but how would you like to remind him that under this roof, at least, I'm his superior? I want him out of there."

"I'd be happy to, so long as no one tells him my name, ma'am." Kirran's tone was light and joking, but his eyes were serious. "Commander, you did me a great kindness and honor by recruiting me. I know it isn't my place, but even a King has no right to a woman who doesn't want him. I'm not alone in thinking as I do, you need only say the word..."

"Stop. Thank you, Kirran. Don't even think of risking the noose for treason on my behalf. I didn't realize my feelings were so plain. I'll have to work on that. Are you on duty right now?"

"No, ma'am. I was just practicing swordplay with recruit Mhairi. When the King arrived, I figured you'd want to know and I had a guess I'd be able to find you."

"Get back to it, then. I'll deal with his Majesty myself. Thank you for warning me, at least." The elf saluted and reluctantly turned back down the hall. She waited until he turned a corner before slowly following him. Alistair was one of the last people she felt prepared to deal with at the moment. Part of her ached, longing for him to treat her as he once had, but she shoved aside the hope that he might once again become the loving and gentle man she had fallen in love with._ He's a king now, _she told herself,_ the man I loved is gone._

Ravenna closed the door quietly behind her. The king was sitting comfortably in her armchair, a smile tugging one corner of his mouth.

"There you are. I was beginning to wonder if your little army was covering for you. Thought maybe you'd fled the country."

"My army isn't big enough yet. What are you doing here? I don't take audiences in my private rooms, Warden."

The king raised an eyebrow, "I was wondering when you'd try pulling rank on me. You realize that your power is only yours at my whim."

"You're a warden first, a King second. Don't forget who handed you your crown, either." Ravenna crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight to one leg, looking down at him.

Alistair scowled, "Careful, love, that sounds an awful lot like a threat."

"You're playing games with me and I don't like being toyed with. When does this end?" Ravenna held his gaze steadily.

"When does what end?" Alistair rose to his feet and closed the short distance between them. "Us?" He stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers, then captured her for a kiss. She responded automatically before she caught herself and pulled away. Alistair frowned, "Never, I hope."

"It must. You can't expect your Queen to allow this to continue. She, at least, deserves that much of your respect. Even if you keep a mistress, it can't be me, your kingdom already knows about me so there's no way to keep it quiet."

"You've clearly given this a lot of thought. But so have I. I don't care what anyone thinks. My future queen will accept the situation with grace. She's a proud woman but she would suffer much to see me happy. She's said as much to me."

"She sounds wonderful." _And either she's a fool or she's very clever._ "Alistair, what we've had..." She trailed off, not certain what she could say without lying. The silence hung between them before she finished lamely, "It's just got to end."

"No. You promised you wouldn't abandon me, you swore you'd stay by my side." He caught her hand as she began to turn away and pulled her to him. "Ravenna, you're..."

A loud knock at the door interrupted whatever he was about to say and before either of them could respond, the door flew open, admitting Kirran.

The elf smiled too brightly, his expression deliberately oblivious. "Commander, tea, as you requested." The tray in his hands rattled as he held up his offering. Alistair dropped Ravenna's hand and stepped away from her, glaring at the intruder before turning away to look out the window. Kirran caught her eye and raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Thank you, recruit. Set it down and return to your duties. I require nothing further." She shook her head slightly, hoping he would just leave.

Kirran set the tray where she indicated and straightened, snapping his fingers, "Damn my fool head, I forgot the honey pot. I'll fetch it and be back in a tick, Commander." He sketched a salute and spun on his heel.

"That won't be necessary. Return to your duties, recruit. That's an order. We're not to be interrupted again." Kirran shot her a glance over his shoulder that made her worry he would defy her.

"Ma'am." His tone was tight with disapproval, but he closed the door behind him. Ravenna crossed to throw the bolt.

"I'm sorry about that. He's a bit of an idiot sometimes. Probably just wanted to catch a glimpse of the King."

Alistair didn't turn to face her. "Is he your lover?"

"What? Of course not, he's just one of the recruits. Found him injured and half-starved in the alienage. What's left of it, anyway. And unlike my predecessor, I actually don't bed my recruits." _At least not yet, _she silently added, wondering that the possibility hadn't even really occurred to her. Kirran was easy to look at, and there were at least a handful of others, now that she was considering it.

"You allow your recruits to enter your quarters without invitation and without so much as a reprimand?"

"No, I do not. I told him to bring the tea when it was ready," she lied. "He didn't know better than to barge in, he's not a servant and we don't stand on ceremony here– I'm training them to be wardens, after all. I'll correct him later, unless you'd like me to call him back?"

He turned toward her, his face dark with anger and jealousy. "I'm not a fool, Rave. I can hear the lie in your voice. Keep your conquests discreet and make certain they know their place is always after me."

Ravenna narrowed her eyes. "He is not my lover," she intoned slowly, "and I do not belong to you."

Alistair blinked, "Of course you don't. I just..." He ran a hand through his hair and sat down, "Maker's breath, when did I become such a beast? Forgive me, Rave. Sometimes it's so hard to keep everything in perspective."

Ravenna didn't respond as she took a seat and poured tea into waiting cups. She pushed one toward Alistair and sipped her own, relieved at his sudden change in demeanor.

"When did all this go wrong?"

She wanted to answer, but everything that came to mind seemed like it would only provoke him. Instead she quietly asked, "What do you mean?"

"I mean I loved you so much, I dreamed of marrying you and spending my life with you as wardens, and now..." He held his hands up, helplessly.

"Now you're king, the very sight of me makes you angry, you're about to marry a girl you barely know and your plan to keep me in your castle failed, so you're overwhelmed by jealousy." So much for not provoking him.

He surged to his feet and, knocking the cup from her hands to shatter on the floor, roughly pulled her out of her chair. "Exactly. Now I know you're a lying harlot, but I still can't seem to get enough of you." He fisted a hand in her dark hair and roughly kissed her. "I don't care who else you're fucking, you'll always be mine when I want you."

Ravenna knew the best way to diffuse his temper and his possessiveness was to please him, so she gave him a sultry smile, "Of course, my King. I wouldn't have it any other way." His grip on her hair eased and she took the opportunity to pull away. She began removing her clothing and stepped toward the screen that separated the bed from the rest of the chamber.

"Though it seems I require frequent reminders, Majesty." She dropped her jerkin to the floor and smoothly pulled her shirt over her head, letting the fabric slip from her fingers to pool on the rug.

Alistair followed, smiling lopsidedly. He knew it wasn't right, but he loved watching the shift in her demeanor when he pushed her hard enough. Rather than let him wound her, she transformed herself into the sensual, pleasure-seeking harlot he had grown so fond of. His realization that he didn't actually love her hadn't diminished the intensity of his attraction to her, if anything it unburdened him. Finding the buttons to push to make her behave as he wished was nearly as enjoyable as what came after, when he was successful.

The last of her clothing fell to rest beside her feet and he caught her, pressing her to the wall. He claimed her mouth and his hands roamed her naked body. Yes, she did require frequent reminders of her place, but he was very pleased to give them to her.


	21. Chapter 21

Ravenna watched the King rise from her bed and silently gather his fine clothing from around the room. She kept still and didn't fully open her eyes, hoping he would think she slept. Her body ached and she wanted him gone. She wanted to scrub herself, and a drink to help her forget. He turned to glance at her and she closed her eyes, concentrating on keeping her breathing even. He quietly padded closer and leaned over her, kissing her brow. His breath tickled her face as he whispered, "Until next time, sweetheart. This game you play with me is very refreshing."

Her blood ran cold, _Game? Is he doing all this intentionally?_ _When did he learn to manipulate me so well?_ She forgot to control her breathing for a moment, giving away her ruse.

"Ah, good. I thought you were awake. I promise I won't make you wait so long until next time." He smiled when Ravenna gave up her charade. "I almost forgot, initially I summoned you to tell you I'll be announcing the wedding within a few days. I wanted you to hear it from me first."

She pushed herself into a sitting position and smoothed her hair away from her face. "Strange way to celebrate the occasion, if I may say so."

"Not at all. Fergus withdrew his objections and has already signed your betrothal contract. I've decided to make an honest woman of you after all. Not that I believe for a moment that marriage will change you."

"What?" Ravenna's stomach flipped and tears sprang to her eyes. "No, he wouldn't..."

"He did. Try to contain your excitement, _beloved_."

"No, I'm not even a Cousland anymore, I'm Warden Commander. I won't abandon my duty, the order won't allow two Gray Wardens on the throne, it could be disaster. They'll forbid it."

"I'm not asking them, nor anyone else. Your brother's consent is enough for the Chantry. You'll be free to run the Wardens from here, in Denerim for as long as they let you. You won't be made Queen, but recognized as queen-consort, unless, of course, you produce an heir." He studied her shocked expression for a moment before turning to leave. When he reached the divider, he glanced back.

"I'm sorry to do this to you, but I think in time you'll forgive me." He looked away, "You were slipping away and I found I couldn't stand the thought of being stuck here without you." A moment passed in silence, Ravenna couldn't speak. Finally, he left, closing the door behind him.

Ravenna stared after him for a moment before throwing aside the covers. She practically ran to the sideboard to pour herself a glass of whatever was in the decanter with shaking hands and gulped the spirits down. She coughed and the liquor hit her stomach in a fiery wave. _Impossible. He's just toying with me again. It's impossible._

There was one quick way to find out. Fergus wouldn't thank her for waking him at this hour, but she had to know. She dressed quickly, longingly promising herself a bath soon. She could still feel the bruises he left on her skin and his seed within her body, but she had to know she hadn't been given to him, she needed to know she didn't _belong_ to him.

She combed her fingers through her hair and was reaching for the door when a soft rapping stilled her. Ravenna took a moment longer to compose herself and wished she'd taken more care when she dressed. Tucking the end of her shirt, she reached again for the door.

"Kirran. What is it?" She stepped past him and gestured for him to walk with her to her office.

"Commander. I just saw that your guest had left and wanted to make certain you... don't need anything."

Ravenna whirled to face the elf, "You needn't look after me, recruit. I'm hardly helpless and your conviction that I might be is wearing on my patience."

The elf's eyes flicked over her, "Forgive me, Commander. I know you're far from helpless." He hesitated before casually continuing, "Did you know you have bruises on your wrist and your neck that weren't there a few hours ago? Sometimes it's hard to see things clearly when they're too close to you."

Her hand rose halfway to her throat before she reversed the motion. "Doesn't matter. None of it does, I just need to speak to teyrn Cousland." Ravenna unlocked the heavy door to her office and sat at the desk, rummaging for paper and something to write with. "Then I can be sure and we'll post guards, not allow anyone into the fort, especially the King."

"Good. I'd be happy to carry a message to him myself. I have a good memory, unless you'd prefer to write it, of course."

"I need his response in writing. Give me a moment." She uncapped the ink and dipped her quill. Looping script began flowing over the page, only a few lines, then she signed her initials and with a few more strokes, drew a rough version of the Cousland laurels. Fergus would recognize it as her own work as surely as a seal. She waited impatiently for the ink to dry, then creased the note in thirds.

"Take it to him, don't hand it off to anyone else. I'm not concerned with who reads it, but I need Fergus' response immediately, not first thing in the morning."

Kirran nodded gravely and accepted the note. "Commander." He hurried out of the fort, pausing only for a moment to unfold and read the few lines on his way through the gatehouse. He wouldn't have if she hadn't told him she didn't care who read it, but his conscience twinged anyway. She probably didn't know he could read well enough to decipher her handwriting, after all. Most of the elves in the Alienage couldn't have.

_Fergus,_

_Alistair claims you've changed your position on the matter of my betrothal and have already signed the necessary documents. Please, brother, tell me this is a lie. Send word with my recruit immediately so I can rest easy and refuse any further advances or demands he places on me. _

_Lovingly,_

_R_

Kirran folded the note carefully and tucked it safely into his jerkin. His steps were quick, he found he was also eager to hear the teyrn's reply.

Ravenna poured herself a third tumbler of amber spirits, whiskey, she thought. She was beginning to worry that Kirran had run afoul of the city guard or the street toughs that plagued Denerim after dark when the elf appeared in the open office doorway. He was out of breath, and his expression was grim as he produced a folded note bearing what she couldn't help but think of as her father's seal. She took it from him and broke the seal.

_Dear Sister,_

_It seems I've made a mistake. I thought this union was what you wanted. Please forgive me. I'll write immediately to undo it, but I fear it may be too late. We must meet and see if we can find a way to rescind the contract, and failing that, we must discuss how best to turn this to your advantage. All I wanted was your happiness. Your recruit has shared certain details with me that I was not privy to. Had I known, the bastard wouldn't have walked away from our audience this afternoon. If he lays another finger on you, I'll gut him, consequences be damned. You need only say the word._

_Faithfully,_

_Fergus_

Ravenna closed her eyes and let the note fall from her fingers. She heard Kirran move to retrieve it.

"Commander? I spoke with the teyrn. I hope you'll forgive me." He discreetly glanced over the note, reading quickly. He finished and turned his gaze back to her just in time.

"It seems I must, but if you speak of my personal business without express permission to do so again, you won't like the consequences." She reached out to take the note from him, placing it on the desk. "Will you carry another message for me, Kirran? I'll see that your weekly salary reflects the service."

"I'd be happy to, even without pay. Who is this one for?"

"Zevran Aranai. He might be difficult to find." She sat down and penned another short note on a small sheet of parchment. As the ink dried, she continued. "He's been spending a lot of time at the Pearl. Ironic that the brothels are already open for business when most of the city is still rubble."

"One of your companions, right? The Crow."

"Yes. He's close to my height, light hair, tanned complexion. He has a tattoo on his face," she traced her fingers over her cheek, roughly imitating the marking before continuing, "and an Antivan accent. It's hard to miss him." She folded the note small enough to palm and dripped wax from a candle to seal it, not wanting to use the distinctive gray sealing wax she had in her desk. She didn't press her crest into the cooling wax, leaving the blob of wax blank. "Don't look for him too long. He might not be in Denerim at all anymore. You can leave this with the madame for him, but if you do, say it's merely from a friend. Don't give my name to anyone but him." She tapped her gloved fingers against her lips thoughtfully. "May I ask you a personal question?"

Kirran raised an eyebrow, "Just don't order me to answer if I don't want to, and I won't complain."

"On second thought, I don't really need to know, just don't take this amiss if I'm wrong– I've heard a rumor that your... preferences are rather broad. So are Zevran's. If you think you can manage it, it might be best to give it to him in private. Once he knows you're there to give him this, he won't expect anything more of you."

Kirran accepted the note and tucked it safely away, a smile hooked one corner of his mouth. "I'll see it delivered, Commander." He saluted and left, enjoying the curiosity the Commander had failed to hide.

The former Crow bent to whisper in his companion's gracefully tapered ear. She was a buxom blonde, and not one of the girls who worked upstairs. Zevran had not been able to get an explanation of what she was doing in the Pearl if she wasn't working and wasn't buying, and he was suspicious, but he made certain never to let suspicion get in the way of having a good time.

The girl giggled at his lewd suggestions and caught him for a kiss. He felt her light fingers carefully frisk him, checking for valuables hidden in other places than his belt pouch. _There's the angle. Sorry, pretty one, you've marked the wrong man._ He caught her wrists and placed her hands against him as he lightly nipped her graceful neck. The girl tensed and he felt her turn her head to look at something behind him. His hand flew to a concealed dagger, which he was certain the girl's clever fingers had missed, but he didn't turn. If someone was going to try to crack his skull, the girl would move away first, and it seemed unlikely anyone would risk knifing him in the back in the middle of the crowded establishment.

The half-expected blow didn't come. Instead, someone cleared his throat and took a seat across the table from them. Zevran looked up at the intruder and caught the girl's wandering hand, once again, hoping she thought it merely her poor luck. He was looking forward to spending a few hours with her, but she would leave if she realized he was wise to her.

"You're interrupting, my friend. Surely there's another table available?" Zevran let his eyes roam over the elven man who had invited himself to sit down. He was fit, though not heavily muscled. His rich brown hair was caught in a tail at the nape of his neck and his dark eyes were sharp and held no fear. The former Crow's smile widened slightly.

"There is, but I know who you are, and from what I've heard, this pretty little tart isn't exactly to your taste." The stranger smiled and leaned back in his chair, openly returning Zevran's scrutiny. "Maybe I could offer you something that is?"

Zevran laughed and turned to the lass at his side, who was scowling and pouting quite attractively. "What do you think, my lovely flower? Shall we let him join us?" When she realized she wasn't about to be dismissed, she brightened.

Taking her shift in demeanor as agreement, and quite frankly not caring what she thought, Zev turned his attention to the other man, "What's your name, friend?"

"Kirran. And no offense intended, but I think this lovely flower is about to rob you. Both of us, if we take her with us."

"Is this true, Flower?" Zevran feigned shock and tried very hard not to laugh at her furious glare in Kirran's direction. "_Dios_, you should know better than to try to rob a dangerous man like myself. However, we needn't let this ruin our fun..."

'Flower' shoved him away and struggled to stand, righting her skewed clothing as she did so, "Just get off me. You two can go bugger each other all night, I've got coin to earn." She left in a huff, and the men watched her go.

"Well, my friend. It seems it is just you and I. Normally I'm not opposed to public exposure, but it seems Fereldans are rather... reactionary to certain displays."

Kirran smiled and rounded the table, sitting close on the bench beside the other elf and boldly kissed him on the lips. After a few moments, he pulled away and put his lips next to the Antivan's ear.

"I'm really not afraid of what these lowlifes might think. I have a message for you, and I was told to deliver it discreetly."

"From whom?" Zevran was suddenly on guard. Part of him was also disappointed that this man hadn't approached him out of interest. It probably also meant that his advances were merely a guise, and he had chased off his other prospect of entertainment for the night.

Kirran hesitated a moment before answering. "Ravenna." He pulled away and pitched his voice a little louder, "Where's your room?"

Zevran's heart skipped a beat when he heard her name and he angrily squashed the surge of emotion that flooded over him. He finished the drink in front of him, passing the one 'Flower' had abandoned to Ravenna's messenger, then stood.

"Come," Zevran commanded. Kirran tossed back the drink, then placed a hand on his companion's shoulder, and either he deliberately exaggerated the motion or he was half drunk. Together, they stumbled out of the Pearl and wove through the trickle of people still on the streets. Zevran led them to the lodging house a few doors down that he had been calling home, and only when the door was bolted behind them did either of them speak.

"I apologize for my intrusion." Kirran withdrew the folded parchment and offered it to the other elf, who accepted it, but didn't glance at the note, instead keeping eye contact.

"And now that you have delivered your message?"

Kirran smiled "Read that, then I'll stay or go, as you choose."

"That is your wish? You owe me nothing, and I don't know what you owe Ravenna, but I doubt it could extend so far."

Kirran met his gaze steadily, a small smile curving his lips. "How I approached you was my choice." He didn't add that it had been her suggestion, however.

"Then Ravenna can wait. I can guess what she wants, anyway," he said as he carefully flicked the note onto a sideboard. "Tell me, what are you to her?"

"Not much. I was surprised she remembered my name. She's my commander. I'm to be a Gray Warden."

"That is not a commitment to make lightly,_ carino_, but I know how persuasive the Commander can be." Kirran silenced him with a kiss.

Ravenna paced until she was dizzy. Kirran had been gone for hours. _I didn't tell him to come back when he was done, maybe he delivered the message and came back and went to bed. Maybe Zev already left Denerim._ The thought brought a pang of regret and more than a twinge of anger flavored by a sense of betrayal. He had promised her one more night, at least, but perhaps their last encounter had left him disenchanted enough with her that he would forget that promise.

Finally, she dragged herself away from her office in search of one of the few maids that maintained the more mundane aspects of the Fort in working order to draw her a bath.

As hard as she tried, she couldn't shake her sense of dread and the deep, lonely ache that had settled over her heart. At times, she felt so worn and tired. It almost became too much to lift her head, let alone carry on. Having a duty, a purpose, helped her to forget herself, but there were always reminders, quiet moments that left too much time for thinking.

"Just read it, already. I promised her I'd make sure you got it." Kirran disentangled himself from the bedclothes and his lover and rolled out of bed. "And if you tell me what's in it, I'll tell you about the other message I delivered tonight and the audience that prompted both letters. I think you might be interested."

"Very well, if you insist. I make no promises that I will share its contents, however. Your Commander is a very terrifying woman to cross."

"Agreed." Kirran handed the note over and set about gathering and donning his discarded clothing. Zevran lounged on the bed and watched his every move. He wanted to savor the feeling of being free from her for a few more moments. Kirran had been a very pleasant distraction, and he wondered if Ravenna had sent the man to him intentionally.

He pushed aside his musings and broke the soft seal with his thumbnail, unfolding the small square of paper.

_Z,_

_I need to see you, even if only as a friend. Please come soon. I trust you to remain discreet for both our sakes._

_R _

"That is all? Here," he handed the note to Kirran, who eagerly read the few dozen words on the page, "I assume your information will shed a little more light on this. Who did she see?"

Kirran nodded and folded the note, placing it back on the side board. "It was the King. He invited himself to her quarters. I informed her of his arrival and offered to make certain he didn't... take advantage of her, but she sent me away. I could tell she didn't want him, and she had bruises on her wrists and neck after he was done with her."

Zevran waved dismissively, though it wasn't easy to hide the anger he felt,"That is nothing new. What else do you know?"

Kirran scowled, not certain what to make of the former Crow's nonchalance. He cleared his throat, "She wrote to her brother immediately after the king left. She didn't seal the letter, so I read it." He glanced up to see if Zevran would disapprove, but the Antivan merely waved for him to continue.

"The teyrn gave her to him. That's what this is about. Teyrn Cousland thought he was doing her a favor and now it's probably too late to undo it without a massive scandal."

"You mean Alistair is planning to force her to wed him?" Zevran chuckled. "The fool will regret it dearly. That woman is not to be trifled with."

"I'm not so sure. You wouldn't laugh if you'd seen her face."

"No, likely not. She needs to remember who she is, and then remind him. Eventually, he will push her too far."

"You should tell her that. She's almost always at the Fort, but sometimes she's hard to find. I could help, I've spent some time following her to see where she goes. She's predictable." Kirran pulled on his boots and checked his belongings.

Zevran snorted, "Predictable. She wouldn't like to hear that, but I suppose in many ways she is." He was lost in thought for a moment. "At this point, I believe she must help herself."

Kirran glanced sharply at him, "You're going to see her, though, right?"

The assassin leaned back, resting his head on his arms. "Why? She knows where to find me, else you would not have been able to. And why are you so concerned? She will remain your commander even if she is queen. And if not, her replacement would not deny you your opportunity to become a Warden."

Kirran fumed, "She's the Hero of Ferelden, and the whole country, including her family and closest friends, is prepared to stand by and watch her given over to a man who treats her worse than a brothel girl. She's more often called "King's whore" than anything else in my hearing, except amongst the other recruits she's gathered. She deserves better."

Zevran arched a brow, "The title suits her well enough, as I'm sure she'd concede. You seem rather incensed, _carino_. One might get the wrong impression. Again, I must ask; why do you care?"

"Why_ don't _you? She turned to you for help and comfort. No one else." Kirran's anger got the better of him and he stalked out of the small room, slamming the door behind him, making Zevran wince at the noise. He shook his head ruefully and spoke to the empty room.

"How does she inspire such fierce loyalty in such a short time?" Kirran's accusations cut deeply and he feared he wouldn't be able to ignore her now. Luckily, the warden recruit had told him how to find her.

Zevran spent nearly a week fighting with himself over whether to meet Ravenna or not. Finally, he decided he must and spent an afternoon discreetly watching the Fort. He caught the occasional glimpse of Kirran, but the recruit was never alone, so he chose not to approach the man. When darkness fell, he decided to simply try his luck. Ravenna's recruits were likely at least marginally loyal to her, he reasoned, and could be convinced not to betray his presence in the Fort if he was spotted. He adjusted his hood and went to find an unguarded door or window.


	22. Chapter 22

Zevran waited in the shadows until he was able to recognize the figure approaching him from the dungeon level of the Fort. Once he was certain it was Ravenna, he stepped into the light and spoke. "Finally, the Commander of the Gray. You are not an easy woman to find." If Ravenna was startled by Zevran's intrusion, she hid it well.

"Zev. Kirran said I shouldn't expect you to come."

"A wise man. I nearly did not. What is it that holds your attention in this part of your fort?"

She stopped a few yards away from him and fitted the torch she carried into a waiting sconce. "Nightmares. Sometimes it helps to see it all empty."

The elf's brow furrowed. He had considered that living within Fort Drakon was probably not healthy for Ravenna, but knowing that she spent time in the specific places she had been held captive and abused worried him. "I see. I hear that congratulations are in order, you're to become Queen of Ferelden after all."

Ravenna looked away, "If you came to mock me, then please leave."

"If that is your wish." He bowed slightly, "I came merely to remind you that playing the victim does not suit you. Unfortunately it seems you're quite invested in it. Goodnight." He turned, but before he'd taken a step, her hand was on his shoulder.

"That's all? Don't play the victim? Everyone's abandoned me!"

"Hardly." He shrugged her hand off his shoulder, "You made the choices that led you here. You even asked your lover to abuse you as he does. Why should you not face the natural consequences of your actions?"

Her heart sank and old wounds reopened. Part of her had always whispered that everything that happened to her had been her own doing. She struggled to find her voice, and when she did, it was barely more than a whisper. "So you think I deserve this? It's all just what I've had coming to me?"

"No, but you chose it, nonetheless. I hope you'll recall that I have asserted that you deserve better. You didn't listen." He turned once more.

"Maker. Please don't just walk away." A quaver had entered her voice and she covered her lips with her hand, as if to stop herself from speaking again.

Zevran sighed, resigned, "Very well. What would you have of me?"

Relieved that he wasn't leaving after all she took a moment to compose herself. "I could use a distraction." She smiled wryly, "I even have permission from my future husband, so long as he doesn't have to hear about it." She stepped closer and slipped her arms around his neck.

"I... think not." Carefully, he withdrew from her embrace. "Come now, surely that can't be the only thing on your mind tonight." Zevran watched the small spark in her eyes die with his rejection. She was such a jumble of strength and fragility, it was almost dizzying to speak with her.

She straightened. She wasn't often turned down. "You seem so different now. Cold. Distant. What did I do to offend you? It was the earring, wasn't it?"

The elf studied her closely. He could easily believe that she hadn't slept or eaten properly in a week. Her eyes seemed dull and lifeless, she seemed on the verge of giving up. It wouldn't take much to push her over the edge, he judged, but he couldn't decide if at that point she would be broken beyond mending or if she would snap back to herself and begin to fight once more. Either way, he didn't want to be responsible for giving her that last nudge over the precipice. She was ultimately very self-focused and he could picture her lashing out and doing real damage to whomever finally got her to snap back to herself.

Zevran sighed. If pushing was out of the question, and turning his back on her and her self-created problems was beyond him, he would have to answer her. "Are you certain you wish to talk about this? I... I really do not know what to say."

"You've taken the risk of meeting me, but clearly you didn't do that for the opportunity to share my bed. Unless you're here for Kirran, and I wouldn't blame you if you were, what else is there to do but talk? "

"Hmm. Very well. An assassin must learn to forget about sentiment. It is dangerous. You take your pleasures where you can when life is good. To expect anything more would be reckless. I thought it was the same between us, and that you shared that philosophy. Something to enjoy, a pleasant diversion, and little more. And yet..."

"No," Ravenna interrupted. "You told me quite clearly that what is between us _is_ merely a pleasant diversion. Now you're implying it's more to you?"

The elf's confidence wavered and his brow furrowed in thought."I don't know. How would you know such a thing? I grew up amongst those who sold the illusion of love. And then I was trained to make my heart cold in favor of the kill. Everything I have been taught says what I feel is wrong. Yet, I cannot help it. Since the first night you spent in my tent, I have been nothing but confused. Do you understand me at all?"

"I am no wiser than you in that area, Zevran. Believing myself in love has nearly destroyed me more than once. If that's what love is, I can't afford it. I don't know if I understand you, but I understand your confusion."

"All I need to know is if there might be some kind of future for us. Some possibility of... I do not know what."

A wry smile tugged her lips, "There seems a great possibility of "I don't know what" in our future, whether it's together or not." She looked away, "Not that it matters, I seem to recall you saying that though you're many things, 'cheat' isn't one of them. Legally, I belong to Alistair... or I will soon."

Zevran shrugged, "You claim you have express permission to do as you please. My objection is to a situation in which you are dishonest for the sake of a temporary affair. Unless you would prefer I take my leave of you and this country altogether?" He held his breath, waiting for her answer, unsure what he wanted to hear from her.

She considered, running a hand through her dark hair. "I need someone I can trust– someone I can rely on. But perhaps that's not enough. It's likely I won't be able to avoid this marriage."

Zevran was silent for a long moment. "I still have the earring. I would like to offer it to you as a token of affection. Will you take it?"

"That sounds like you mean it to mark some kind of commitment."

"Not unless you wish it." Zevran tried to still his emotions. After the first time he had offered her the earring, he had given the matter a lot of thought. He nearly sold the token to prevent himself from displaying such foolishness again. But he had already made the decision that it was _hers_, even when she didn't accept it. If what was between them turned out not to be love, he would do what it took to close his heart to such weakness in the future.

"I very much wish it, but I'm still not free. Of course, I'd never expect anything more from you than I can offer. But I'll take it, gladly if you want me to have it."

"Then that is enough for me, at least for now. Perhaps your husband will tire of you and eventually we can work up to fidelity, no?" he said with a strained chuckle. "Better yet, we may be able to convince him to choose another woman to wed." He pulled the earring from his pouch and tucked her hair behind her ear. His brow furrowed when he realized the lobe was unpierced.

Ravenna noticed his frown and met his gaze, nodding slightly and tilting her head to give him a better angle. "Go ahead, I want to wear it," she urged. With a lopsided smile, he positioned the post.

"This is not the proper way to do it, but I wish to see you wearing it. Deep breath, _carina_," he warned, and forced the earring through with one quick push. Ravenna gasped, but didn't flinch or pull away. "Very well done," he drew her close for a light kiss, brushing his thumb along the shell of her ear.

"It suits you, _adoravana._" He turned her head to the side. The sight of her wearing his token had a powerful effect on him. Despite his words, he wasn't at all sure what he intended the earring to mean anymore, but it would be interesting to find out. "I am sorry for acting so strangely. I think I will be better now. Much better. Perhaps now you can show me the more hospitable regions of your Fort? Your bedchamber, for instance..."

Ravenna smiled and waved for him to follow. "You know, I have a lot more recruits than I can properly train myself. Perhaps I can convince you to lend a hand." She would have liked to slip her arm around him, but there was little chance they would remain unobserved and it wasn't worth the risk.

"My services are not cheap, Commander," the elf said with a smile, "but we could discuss a contract if it pleases you."

As they rounded the corner, she frowned, thinking she saw a flicker of movement at the end of the corridor. _No, it was nothing. Only a ghost could have snuck up on Zevran. We couldn't have been overheard_. Still, she worried.


	23. Chapter 23

Zevran laughed and spun away from his opponent. The man was clad in heavy plate and desperately wielded a heavy two-handed blade. Desperate because Zevran was almost literally dancing circles around him. The elf tapped another three hits, each precisely aimed between the steel plates encasing his opponent, and backed away.

"Have you had enough, my friend? I believe I have made my point."

The soldier glared through his bucket helm but assumed the pose that indicated a yield, sword point resting to the inside of his leading foot. "You have. Though I'm at a loss as to what I might do about it. This is the only way of fighting I'm suited for."

"Then you must improve your speed or your ability to anticipate your enemy. By studying other styles and weapons, you can at least know how your opponent is likely to behave."

"I... see. Thank you for the lesson, Ser." The recruit waited for Zevran's nod of acknowledgment before lumbering off the training floor.

"You," said a familiar and very unexpected voice, "are not who I expected to find here today."

Zevran turned slowly. "Majesty," the elf bowed tightly, "I could say the same. You are far from your fiancee's quarters. Perhaps you took a wrong turn and require directions?"

Alistair scowled darkly, "I'm sure you'd be able to provide very good directions to her chamber." The warden-turned-king slowly crossed the practice floor, something dangerous in how he moved, "What in the name of Andraste's flaming tits are you doing here?"

"Ah, then you must have missed the lesson. I have been asked to assist with the training of the warden recruits."

"Void take you, I know what you're here for. So this is Ravenna's version of discretion, is it?"

"What you're thinking is incorrect. What kind of fool would I be to dally with your intended? Especially so indiscreetly." Zevran's eye caught movement in the far doorway. Kirran. He smiled. "There are far better, and less treasonous, ways to pass the time, after all."

Alistair turned to follow Zevran's gaze and frowned when he recognized Kirran. There were entirely too many... men in the Fort, all under Ravenna's command. "I see," he muttered under his breath, taking note of the lascivious smirk on Zevran's face and the open smile on Kirran's.

"Your Majesty, this is recruit Kirran. He's here for some... private training, I believe." Zevran casually introduced the other elf, and Kirran surprised him by blushing at the innuendo.

Kirran bowed his head, "The Commander said I should apologize if I saw you again, yer Majesty." He laughed nervously and scratched his head, "Mum said I was raised by wild animals, I was. 'Fraid I got no polish. Commander's had me cleaning the privy ever since. Don't expect I'll get much polish there, though."

"No, I don't expect you will," Alistair agreed dryly.

"Kirran, please wait for me in the armory. I'll be able to give you my attention shortly." Zevran let his gaze linger on the recruit's retreating form. Kirran had notably played up being stupid and uneducated, and it piqued the assassin's curiosity. And then there was the uncharacteristic blush. There was more to Ravenna's recruit than it seemed.

"You're leering. It's a little overdone, to be honest. He's good looking, but I find it hard to believe you'd rather bed that simpleton than Ravenna."

"Why? I actually prefer men, though I'm certainly not picky, and Kirran may be a bit stupid, but in many ways, that adds to his charm. He's very easy to handle." Zevran smiled at his joke, and Alistair arched an eyebrow. "Ravenna is far too... entangled with herself and focused on past hurts. Her will has been broken too many times, she cannot possibly know who she is anymore. I would not abandon her friendship, but I shudder to think of what it might be like to be anything closer to that one."

"You think so?" A ghost of a smile curved Alistair's lips. "So are you planning on joining the wardens, or are you content to serve them?"

"I have no desire for self-sacrifice and glory in my life, and I am still not free of the last... fraternity in which I held membership. The Commander requested my assistance, so until she finds a replacement, I will assist. She _is_ paying me, after all."

"I see. Well, don't get too comfortable." Alistair shifted and glanced around the training floor. "So, where do you suppose I might find _the Commander_?"

"Perhaps her office, or the kitchen. For one so trim, she certainly spends a lot of time raiding the larder."

"It's a Warden thing. Not in her office. I'll check the kitchen. If you see her, tell her where I've gone." Alistair left the training hall. As his footsteps receded, Kirran returned to Zevran's side.

"Shall I fetch her," Kirran said quietly, "or would you like to? She's probably wandering the dungeons again."

Zevran frowned. "Stay here and run through drills. If she's there, it's time I provoked a conversation about how she spends her free time. If Alistair returns, imply that this wasn't a scheduled lesson and that I intend to see you later tonight in a more private setting. Normally that would be too much, but Alistair requires a heavy hand."

Kirran smirked, "My pleasure, as long as it's true."

"I would not ask you to lie to the king. Not much, anyway." Zevran pulled him close for a quick kiss, then hurried away.

"Good," Kirran said under his breath, "I'm an awful liar." Zevran heard, whether he was meant to or not, and he didn't believe it for a second.

/-/

Zevran knew Ravenna must be somewhere on the level. The final torch was missing from its sconce. Now, with one in his hand, the final two were missing. Despite knowing she must be somewhere in the area, he was about to give up. Being caught skulking after her would be difficult to explain away. He rounded one more corner, intending to return after a quick look when he spotted light coming from under a door toward the end of the corridor. He hastened his pace and allowed his footsteps to sound on the cold stones beneath his boots. It wasn't much noise, but if Ravenna was paying attention, she would hear his approach.

The door creaked open at his touch, she hadn't latched it. She didn't turn at the noise. She didn't even seem to realize he was there. The heavy table in the middle of the room held all her attention and judging by the leather restraints, Zevran had a good guess why.

"_Adoravana_..."

"Maker!" Ravenna whirled and a wickedly curved dagger appeared in her hand. Her eyes were wild for the moment it took her to process who had intruded on her rumination. "Zev. You startled me."

"It was not my intent. What are you doing here?" He entered the room, leaving the door wide behind him and placing his torch in a wall sconce beside Ravenna's.

Ravenna put her dagger away and turned back to the table, almost touching it. Her gloves were tucked into her belt, and Zevran suspected she was working herself up to actually touching the damaged wood. He thought she wasn't going to answer when she finally spoke. "This is where they 'questioned' me." She traced her finger above a deep cut, not touching the scored wood, confirming Zevran's suspicions, "This is where I lost my fingers. I can't be certain. Can't stand to compare it to my hand, but... part of me knows anyway."

"I see. What are you doing here?" he repeated, moving closer to her.

"I... Looking at it terrifies me, but I can't stop coming back here. I feel I'm going mad, but I can't help it. This place is mine now. I was powerless before, and now I command it. It almost seems that by keeping watch over this place, I'm protecting myself when no one else did. It's... comforting."

"You _will_ drive yourself mad, _mia cara_. You must put this to rest before it consumes you." The elf reached out to touch the mark. He wouldn't have noticed it amongst all the other cuts and gouges marring the stained wood, but judging by its position relative to the restraints, he thought she was probably right.

"I can't move on while I spend every waking moment under this roof, knowing this place is only a short walk and a few doors away. And leaving feels like I'm abandoning myself here. I was so sure I'd die in this void-forsaken place. I wanted to. It feels wrong that I ever left. Maybe it is, maybe that's why I can't stop coming here."

"Touch it." Zevran commanded, placing a reassuring hand between her shoulder blades and catching her maimed hand in his. The Warden Commander tried to step back from the table and pull her hand from his, but he stopped her.

"No, I just can't, Zev. Let go!"

"Hush, you needn't fear this. I won't force you to, but you know you must. It is over and you are safe." When she calmed, he guided her hand toward the table. The angle was awkward, and he could feel her tense, but she allowed him to press her hand against the marred wood. He smoothed her hand open and corrected the angle.

"It seems you were correct, _carina_." He released his hold on her hand, but rather than snatch it away, as he expected her to do, she kept it in place, curling and uncurling her fingers a few times. He was also surprised to see tears on her cheeks.

"Yes." She straightened and stepped closer to him, still looking at the table. "Thank you."

"Would you like to have it burned?" He put an arm around her shoulders. "I assume you will be done looking at it soon, now that you know."

"I... don't know. It feels as if a weight has been lifted, but it still isn't right."

"It never will be. You must find your peace anyway. Is there anything else in this place that haunts you?"

Ravenna laughed bitterly, "Of course. You know what happened here."

"Perhaps you'd like to show me." He pressed a kiss to her temple, "But it will have to wait, I'm afraid you've been missed. Alistair is looking for you. I sent him to the kitchen and Kirran will keep him from finding us here if he can."

"Damn." Ravenna gave herself a mental shake. "Did he... was he angry when he saw you? I haven't had a chance to inform him yet."

"Of course." He gently guided her from the room, plucking both their torches from the wall sconces on the way out. He left the door ajar so he would be able to find the room again. "I believe I convinced him I'm more interested in Kirran than anything else, and I'm afraid I said something you may find hurtful in order to do it." He caught her hand and brushed his lips over he knuckles. "Untrue, I assure you."

"I'll try to remember that if he decides to throw it in my face. I'll see if I can support your story. Is Kirran up to keeping Alistair distracted?"

Zevran laughed, "I have no doubt he is. _Carina_, I've begun to suspect you have a trained bard under your roof. Kirran is much more than he seems. Where did you find him?"

Ravenna's eyes widened, "Maker. The alienage. He was injured, probably in the invasion, and it was healing badly. He was half starved and burning with fever. One of the wardens from Weisshaupt found him and suggested that if he were given a little care, he would make a good recruit."

"Perhaps not a bard, precisely, but a watcher from the other wardens, then? That is a very good cover, the fever. I assume it cleared quickly? And the wound was superficial, only dangerous because of the supposed infection?"

"I... hadn't considered it, but it makes some sense. I never saw the wound unbandaged but he doesn't have much of a scar. The wardens tended him until they left, then the other recruits took over." Ravenna was suddenly very glad that though she'd grown much closer to the recruit and had even spent an occasional night with him, she hadn't confided in him.

"Now, why would the wardens feel the need to place someone trained as a spy close to you? Especially considering the risk of losing him to the Joining."

Ravenna looked at him sharply, "I didn't realize that was common knowledge."

"Please, there were very few secrets within your camp." He stopped walking. They were nearing the flight of stairs that would take them back to the inhabited portion of the Fort. "I will wait here for a count of two-hundred. Try to be well away by then. Kirran and I have... an appointment this evening in my quarters. Will you join us if you're available, _carina_?"

Ravenna smirked, "If I'm free. I have some things to discuss with Alistair, but I doubt he'll stay long. After dinner is served?" When Zevran nodded, she smiled and handed him her torch, braving the rest of the corridor in the dark, preferring not to bring any attention to the fact that two torches were missing if anyone happened to be watching. She knew the way well enough to walk it in the dark anyway.


	24. Chapter 24

Author's note: Thanks to everyone for sticking with me, and I really appreciate the reviews, follows, and faves. I figure the best reply/thank you for that is posting a new chapter. ;) Keep up with the reviews and stuff and this story will get more of my time.

/=/=/

Ravenna tapped her fingers against her desk. Her tone was deliberately patient, "You need to free the Lyrium trade from the Chantry's grasp. Bhelen should be cooperative if you make it profitable, but we'll have to do it slowly and quietly or the Chantry will denounce you."

"Right," Alistair doubtfully agreed. "And why would 'we' need to do this?"

"Maker. We've been over this. You've got to do something to weaken the Chantry politically. They're powerful, and they're _Orlesian_. Lyrium is a major source of their control and financial stability, and as soon as the nobility realizes how much they have to gain by opening up the trade, the Chantry will face serious opposition. Use your connections in Orzammar and Bhelen's greed to get things moving quietly. But if the Chantry marshals their defenses before anyone has reaped the benefits, you'll be seen as trying to undermine the Chantry."

"Which is exactly why you want this, after all."

"_You_ are the king," Ravenna stated, slapping her hand against the desk for emphasis, "The Chantry should not command you, especially since it is a foreign institution. Why allow Orlesian power in Ferelden? Meric fought to free this country from them, yet they're still here! Ferelden, Denerim in particular, is vital to the Chantry. This is the birthplace of Andraste. Seize the power that is at your fingertips, Alistair, and finish your father's work!"

"Maker, you're terrifying, Rave," Alistair said, a half-smile curving his lips. "I had no idea you were such a power-hungry schemer. Dare I ask why I'd even want more influence?"

"If you're going to do a job," she stated, visibly calmer than a moment ago, "do it well. You chose to make a bid for the crown, and I saw to it that you got it. Thus far, you've been letting Eamon make every decision for you. That needs to stop or I'll have him removed."

"What?" Alistair demanded, taken aback. "You'd have him killed? He's practically my uncle!"

"Wrong. He was your half-brother's uncle, there's no blood relation to you. You're the bastard of the man who cheated on his sister and the woman he betrayed her with. Don't think he would forgive you for your father's transgression. He raised you to be an insecure, biddable puppet. He made you sleep in the kennels with the dogs, Alistair. Can you imagine treating a child you had promised to raise as your own so poorly? Every time you listen to him, have no doubt he's laughing at you, and you're playing to his plots. Make some of your own or you're nothing but a figurehead."

"And what's wrong with that? He, at least, knows what he's doing."

"_I_ know what I'm doing, as well." A wicked grin spread over her face, "Besides, I'm not going to play your games anymore, Majesty. Until you find your backbone, I'll have nothing more to do with you."

Alistair lifted an eyebrow, unimpressed by her display. "You can't squirm out of this marriage, Rave. One of us would have to die before that contract will be broken."

_That could be arranged, _Ravenna thought darkly. Hadn't she already declined more than one offer to have Alistair dealt with? "Your power only extends so far," she scoffed, "And don't forget that you've all but abdicated that power to others– others who would be all too happy to let me slip away to where I can no longer influence you and undermine their own power over you."

"I could have you locked away," he threatened, a petulant frown on his face. "You can't run if you're..."

"Enough!" Ravenna interrupted, hoping her distress at the possibility of being imprisoned was masked by her anger. "Do you know how many men I have in the fort?" She waited a moment while Alistair blinked in confusion. "Exactly– you have no clue. I've chosen men and women who will be loyal to _me_ above any other. And you don't know how busy I've been. You're allowed here at my command, not your own. You could put up a bloody fight trying to keep me here, and you might succeed. But you'd look like a coward and a fool, and the wardens would demand a reckoning. You're king, but you're also a warden under my watch. You know the wardens better than I, which position are they likely to consider superior? Easier to simply step up and take control of the country you claimed– that's all it takes to have me willingly at your side."

"I see." Alistair stared into the fire, wondering what he'd gotten himself into. He was just beginning to convince himself that he could handle being the ruler of a nation, but she was right– he'd handed everything off to others. Even their relationship was a shambles. He came here intending a very different sort of encounter, and despite all his recent practice at dominating her, from the moment she closed her office door behind them, she'd commanded every aspect of the meeting. He felt like a foolish little boy being taken to task for shirking his chores.

"I hope so. I'd hate to think I've been wasting my time with you, Alistair. Consider my suggestions and get back to me if you need assistance with anything." Ravenna turned her attention to the papers on her desk, clearly intending it as a dismissal.

"I'll... do that." He cleared his throat and stood up. "I ran into Zevran in the practice rooms."

"Ah," she acknowledged as she set aside the papers, "I knew I was forgetting something. I've contracted him and several other experts of various styles of fighting to train my men. It's a good start, but I want some mages, Alistair. And I'll need some templars, or recruits with your level of ability, as well. I was hoping you might be able to help me with selection."

"Why? You can have anyone you want with the right of conscription. You know I won't allow anyone to contest it. I _am_ still a warden myself, after all. I know how vital it is to maintain the order."

"What do I know about mages? You, on the other hand, were about to take your vows and devote your life to watching them for signs of corruption. Your opinion would be valuable to me. I don't want to endanger the other recruits by choosing poorly. And I certainly don't want any lyrium addicts if they can't be weaned off it."

"Alright. I don't know when you expect this to happen. We'll have to travel to Kinloch Hold."

"It can wait a while. If there's nothing else, I've got work to do."

"And just like that, she dismisses a king," Alistair said in disbelief. "Zevran was right, it's dizzying trying to keep up with you. He says you've been broken so many times, you can't possibly know who you are anymore. I think he was right, just look at you."

"Excuse me?"

"Last time I was here you were bent over the desk before I said a dozen words to you. The time before that you begged me to beat you with your own belt until you were sobbing from the pain of it. And now you're all business, acting like you have a right to give me orders."

Ravenna calmed her anger. Alistair wanted to get a rise out of her, and she wasn't going to oblige. "There's work to be done. I'm through bowing to a weak man. I've given you long enough to find your stride, but you've squandered that time. Impress me and we can renegotiate the terms of our physical relationship. Until then, find yourself a whore to sate your appetites or seduce one of the ladies at court and make her your mistress."

"I can't believe we've come to this," Alistair said softly. "I need to do some thinking," he slowly walked to the door. "When you're summoned," he added, "I expect you to bring yourself before me within an hour."

"I'm busy, Alistair, but I'll do my best. No need to come and fetch me, just have some patience."

He glanced at her over his shoulder and scowled. She expected him to argue further, but his expression softened. "Good. I'll see you again soon, love." He didn't wait for her reply, closing the door firmly behind him.

_Love?_ She scoffed. _How dare he call me that after all he does. _Ravenna shook her head in disbelief. _But it worked. And he didn't even put up much of a fight._ She sighed, part of her wondering if she'd regret her actions.

/=/=/

Kirran watched the dining hall's entryway, picking absently at his plate. "Looks like the Commander has no appetite this evening, Zev."

The former Crow smirked, "Difficult to believe, no? The way she eats, it's hard to believe she's not impossibly fat. Insatiable..." his eyes glinted wickedly, "which is, after all, one of her more appealing traits. Don't you agree?"

The warden recruit leaned forward, and lowered his voice, "How can you be so flippant? Maker knows what he's doing to her this very moment... A week ago he beat her until her back was nothing but bloody welts, and then..."

"Hold your tongue, recruit," Zevran commanded lightly, "she allowed it. And according to Leon, her... meeting was concluded some time ago." He shoved his plate away and wiped his fingers on a tattered napkin. "I have matters to attend to. Please come and pick up next week's training roster when you've finished."

"Ser," Kirran held his fist over his heart in a casual salute, then turned his attention to his plate.

Zevran smirked and threw a wink at the nearest table of recruits, most of whom were pointedly _not watching_ the exchange between himself and Kirran. Word had gotten around about the affair between the two elves, just as Zevran intended, and there seemed to be a great deal of curiosity about the pair. More curiosity than hostility, thus far, but it was unlikely to remain that way. Then again, Ravenna had hand-picked most of her recruits herself– perhaps there would be no conflict over such petty matters.

Discarding the idea of passing by the Commander's office, he turned his steps toward his own. There _were_ performance reviews to write, and he didn't expect Kirran or Ravenna for some time yet. Once he closed the door behind him and settled at the battered desk, he found his thoughts wandering, however.

Kirran was certainly more than he seemed, but if he was a spy for the Gray Wardens of Weisshaupt, his seeming concern for Ravenna made little sense. _Who is Kirran Tabris? Perhaps he merely has the training, but is not employed to use it?_ Zevran mused. _Or perhaps he is meant to draw attention from another agent..._ His concentration was disrupted by the realization that the door that led to his chamber wasn't latched as he had left it. Silently rising to his feet and drawing a stiletto, he crept to the door, but he abandoned his caution when he gained a better view of the adjoining room.

"I wondered when you'd notice the door," Ravenna chided. "You're distracted, Zev," she said as she crossed the room. When she reached him, she draped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him deeply. He pulled her close and returned the kiss. His hands drifted, beginning to deftly work the buckles on the light leather armor she wore. When she realized what he was doing, she pulled away, laughing lightly. "You're a sneak, love," she tilted her head and scanned the room behind him, "And you're alone?"

"For the moment. Kirran spent his time brooding over what the king might be doing to you rather than eating his dinner, so he's several minutes behind me."

"Brooding? That seems odd behavior for..." Ravenna trailed off, not daring to speak their suspicions.

"It does indeed. And I was able to confirm that he does have family in the Denerim Alienage– or at least that he assumed the name of someone who does. Perhaps more observation is in order."

"We could just ask him."

Zevran clucked his tongue, "Such impatience could end in violence, _adoravana_. Are you certain you wish to risk losing him that way?"

She sighed. "No. He's very good cover, everyone's watching the two of you instead of keeping an eye on what I'm up to, and he's one of the more promising recruits. But if he's an agent..."

"Leave this to me, _mia bellezza_. Intrigue is precisely what has been lacking from my experience of Ferelden."

"Perfect," she said with a smile, "I knew I kept you around for something."

"Oh-ho, is that all?" he asked, sliding his hands under her half-undone armor, "Then how do you explain the many nights you spend drinking my apsentha and sharing my bed?"

"Apsentha, what a pretty name. I had no idea that's what you've been giving me. And I don't explain those nights to anyone, Zev," she countered, unfastening the last few buckles holding the hardened leather to her body. She pulled away long enough to set aside the armor, then returned to his embrace, "But I believe bed-warming was part of the original agreement between us when I spared your life."

"So it was, but... shh, footsteps," he pushed her into the bedchamber and softly closed the door, then hurried back to the desk. Someone knocked at the door, and Zevran picked up a sheaf of papers, before calling the visitor in.

The door opened, admitting Kirran, and the assassin relaxed somewhat, tossing the papers carelessly to the desk. "Ah, _carino_, I am glad it is you. Lock the door, if you please."

The lock clicked, then Kirran threw the bolt. "Have you heard anything?" he asked.

"What sort of greeting is that?" Zevran said, affecting a hurt expression, "Keep it up and I'll begin to wonder if your interest in me is only a ploy to bring you closer to her."

"You know better, Zev," Kirran closed the distance between them and aggressively kissed him.

Zevran enjoyed his attentions for a moment, then pulled away. "Come," he pulled the warden recruit toward the bedchamber, "we have a guest to entertain this evening." Kirran's eyes widened as Zev's words sank in.

"Commander," Kirran said with relief when he saw her. She had finished removing her armor and lounged on the bed in her shirt and smalls. The warden recruit's smile widened as his eyes lingered on her shapely legs– the one part of her body that wasn't criss-crossed with scars, and, in his opinion, one of her best features. "I suppose I should have listened to Zev. He said I was worrying too much."

"Kirran, worry for yourself," Ravenna said, his concern for her bringing a smile to her face. "The two of you are in far more danger than I am."

Kirran laughed, "Well, you'd think that, but I'm certain we fooled the king."

"His suspicion is dangerous, _carino,_" Zevran warned. "Though I must applaud your performance in the training room. I believe you will escape his scrutiny, even if I do not."

"What performance?" Ravenna asked.

"Kirran presented himself as a perfectly charming dolt. I wonder if the king will come to question that such a simpleton was chosen to join the ranks of the wardens, though."

"It doesn't take a lot of brains to fight and kill and follow orders," Kirran protested.

"Perhaps. But if he realizes your deception..." Zevran trailed off, his point made.

"If he realizes he was deceived and decides to retaliate," Ravenna began, clearly irate, "he'll come to regret ever setting eyes on me. I told him today that one of the primary traits I've selected for is loyalty. Display that, and he'll assume it was enough to make up for any perceived deficiencies. But we're not here to talk about this, and I've had enough of Alistair. I don't want to think about him."

"Good. I wish for you to never think of him again, _carina,_" Zevran said with a smirk as he pulled her shirt over her head. He winked at Kirran, "Let us help her forget, _amante._"

\=\=\=\=\

Ravenna carefully disentangled herself from her lovers and the chaotic bedding, somehow waking neither of the elven men. It helped that she had ended up on the edge of the bed, not in the middle. Her body ached in ways she had never imagined, and she suspected dawn was not many hours away. _And now we'll see if this causes any problems between them. For a while it felt like they were competing. Void, I hope this wasn't a mistake._

She quietly searched for her clothing in the darkened room, finally giving up on finding her underclothes._ Who cares? I'm just going back to my own room anyway._ She tried not to worry that leaving _anything_ behind might endanger Zevran and Kirran. Zev would surely take care of it in the morning, anyway.

Her thoughts drifted to her earlier conversation with Zevran about what she might now do with _the table_. She felt the urge to walk the keep again, but she knew where that would lead. _Could I burn it, as Zev suggested? What could I possibly do to that other room, though? I can't burn away the memories. _

She pulled her boots on and turned to leave when Zevran softly called to her, "Leaving so soon, _adoravana_?"

"Restless thoughts," she whispered, then crossed her lips with one finger, looking pointedly to Kirran's sleeping form. He was sprawled in the middle of the bed, one arm flung across his face. Zevran smoothly slid from the bed and pulled on a pair of loose linen pants, following her into the office.

"You are troubled," he said, his voice quiet.

"A safe guess," Ravenna conceded. "You should get back to him. If he wakes..."

"I have time enough for you, Ravenna. Tell me."

"This is too much. I can't lose you, and I hate putting Kirran in danger as well. Alistair could have you both arrested and executed with no evidence, no cause. The backlash would be negligible. I can't protect you."

"We both accept the risk, and your intended would not find it so easy to arrest either of us. Is that all?"

"Alistair told me what you said to him. It was true."

"No, it was not," Zevran angrily argued. "And if he cared for you at all, he would not have repeated such a thing to you."

"He wouldn't be so cruel to me if he didn't care. And you knew he would when you said it to him. You even warned me."

"You should leave Ferelden, Ravenna."

"What? Where would I go?"

"I have business in Antiva, perhaps..."

"Maker. Antiva? You mean to go after the Crows. You can't leave, Zev."

"You could come with me. It would be dangerous, and perhaps it is selfish of me to ask."

"I can't. If I run, he'll hunt me."

"Consider the offer. I shall not leave for some time. I have certain obligations to fulfil."

Ravenna squeezed her eyes shut, fighting back tears, "I'll give it some thought." She calmed herself and met his gaze, "Thank you for tonight."

"Rest well, _adoravana_."

"It seems unlikely, but thank you."

"Do not wander the keep this night."

"Don't think to command me under my own roof," she countered lightly. "Goodnight, Zev."

Kirran waited until Zevran locked the door behind Ravenna, then entered the office. "So, what did you say to the king?"

"You're a sneak, _amante_. It was something cruel, said in the hopes of convincing him I have no interest in her."

"I see. What was it?"

"A persistent sneak. I told him I would not wish to face a relationship with her because she has been broken so many times that she no longer remembers who she is. It is half true, and that is why it hurt her. She remembers how she was before she was pushed past her limits, before she changed in order to survive, and it feels like she has lost herself, because those aspects she was forced to abandon are impossible to recapture. They died."

"You as well?"

"Becoming a Crow is not easy and their methods are not gentle."

"Do you think she's walking the keep?"

"I know she is. Come to bed, _carino_."

"You'd just let her suffer alone?"

"She knows she need not!" Zevran angrily replied, tired of Kirran's consistent implications that he was negligent and uncaring toward Ravenna. "You are as guilty of leaving her to her demons as I am, if it bothers you, go running after her, but trust me, she does not want either of us tonight."

"She seemed pretty pleased with both of us just a short while ago."

"Fucking is one of the few things that makes her feel empowered. We have played our part," Zevran said, waving his hand dismissively as he returned to his bedchamber. He left the door open, but made no further invitation for Kirran to join him.

The warden recruit shook his head, but thus far, Zevran's judgment concerning Ravenna had been correct. He quietly followed the Antivan elf, intending to do whatever he must to make amends.


	25. Chapter 25

Rumors had been flying, and finally Ravenna could confirm them– the king had taken a mistress. _And we're not even married, yet. So much for a happy life together,_ she bitterly thought. She collapsed into a chair as a sardonic laugh escaped her lips at the idea that there ever might have been a possibility of mending things between them. The lump in her throat and the weak feeling in her knees surprised and angered her. _The foolish girl can have him,_ she insisted to the part of her that felt heartbroken and betrayed, _I _don't_ want him_. It didn't ease the unexpected flush of emotions, and she slammed her gloved hand against her desk. Anger was much easier than heartache. _I lost him ages ago, if I ever had him._

Her thoughts were interrupted by a light tap on the office door. _No,_ she thought, willing the visitor– almost certainly Zevran or Kirran– to leave, knowing he wouldn't. She stared in silence at the door for several moments. The tapping was repeated, more insistently this time, and a few heartbeats later, it creaked open.

Kirran met her glare with a smile, "Ah, so you_ are_ here. But, of course, Leon is never wrong, and he never claims to know something when he isn't sure."

"What is it, recruit? I'm not... I don't have time to idle away."

The elf's smile faded. "I thought you might like company."

"Why would you think that, unless you've been reading the letters you've been carrying?"

"Guilty," Kirran admitted, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "Only when they're not sealed, though. Better me than a stranger, isn't it?"

Ravenna's shock was immediately replaced by outrage, "How dare you! I should have you flogged, you insolent, ungrateful _bastard!_"

Kirran tried to hide a wince, but when he spoke, his tone was stoic, "If you do, it won't be the first time, Commander."

"Maker help me, I'll do it myself," she raged. "Who buys your information, anyway? Are you playing Alistair, or do you take _two_ salaries from Warden coffers?"

"Rave, stop," Kirran's objection ended abruptly at Ravenna's murderous glare, "I mean Commander..." he corrected, "you're right to be angry, but I'd never take coin for your secrets."

"I'm supposed to believe you spy on me for your own amusement?" she scoffed. "Get out. Go back to the alienage, or wherever you came from before I decide to make an example of you."

"With respect, I won't leave, Commander. Do what you think you have to, I'll take the punishment. But I'm not a spy and I'm not taking coin from anyone. I'm the most loyal soldier you have."

"Void take you, Kirran. So be it." She ripped a strip of blank paper from the note she'd just read and scrawled a few words in dark, angry strokes. She folded it and poured a large puddle of wax from the candle to seal it. After pressing her signet ring into the cooling wax, she lifted her eyes to meet his. "How can I believe a word you say? Do you really think I'm such a fool?"

"You're not angry with _me_, Rave, and you _do_ believe me."

"Report to Zevran," she ordered through gritted teeth, "and give him this, unless you'd rather leave." She pushed the note to him and didn't break eye contact.

Kirran saluted crisply and took the note. "If you decide you'd like someone to speak to..."

"Out!" she roared, rising to her feet and slamming her palm to the desk. Kirran left.

He let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding when the door clicked shut behind him. _Should have listened to Zev, but... how could I?_ It baffled Kirran that Ravenna was clearly so affected by Alistiar's actions._ I must be missing something. Maybe it wasn't always like that between them. Maybe it was better once._ He rounded a corner and headed for the training lists– Zevran was seldom in his office or quarters.

As expected, the former assassin was running a handful of recruits through knife-work drills. Kirran threaded his way across the training floor and thrust the note to Zevran.

"What is this, recruit?"

"From the commander. She ordered me to report to you and deliver that. I should have listened to you."

Zevran called his class to hold and dismissed them from the rest of their lesson for the day. He watched them file out frowned as he cracked the sloppy seal and shook the folds from the ragged scrap of parchment. "Was she angry enough to strike you?"

"No. But there was a desk between us. I think that note probably says you're supposed to do it for her, anyway. How did you know she was angry?"

Zevran didn't answer, his attention on the note in his hands. When he finished, he crumpled the paper in his fist. He drew a deep breath before speaking. "You are correct. You should leave. She will allow it."

"You know I won't, and I told her, too. Go ahead, Zev. She's hurting and she needed someone to take it out on. It's okay."

"What did you do, _carino?_"

Kirran shrugged, "I told her that I read her correspondence when it's not sealed. No choice, really. When I went to talk to her, I already knew what was in the letter she'd just read. It was sloppy, but at least now she knows."

"And you would rather accept punishment than simply walk away?"

"I can take a few dozen lashes, or whatever else she's decided her privacy was worth. It wasn't even about that, really. Alistair's taken a mistress, you know. But let's get this over with. Maybe then she'll start trusting me."

Without a word and before Kirran could react, a small dagger appeared in Zevran's hand and the assassin sliced a long, shallow cut along the back of his arm. Kirran recoiled and realized with a rising sense of dread that his knees were buckling– he was falling. _Poison?_ He struggled to keep his eyes open, locking his gaze on Zevran's.

The Antivan elf caught him and eased him to the floor, then carefully sheathed the poisoned blade, "I wish it were that,_ carino_." The world went dark.

\-\-\-\-\

Zevran idly spun a small dagger through his fingers– a nervous habit that seemed to be resurfacing more and more the longer he looked after Ravenna. Kirran had been moved to a cell and now he waited for her to speak. Instead she paced. The flash of _his_ earring peeking through her dark hair suddenly provoked his temper. "I'm surprised you would order this, _Commander_," he said, nearly spitting the final word.

Her posture tensed at his chosen address, or perhaps at his abrupt interruption of her introspection, but she accepted it and met his gaze, "Why? He admitted to spying."

Zevran didn't flinch from her scrutiny and intensified his stare, "If you want him tortured, do it yourself, I will not."

She recoiled and blinked in disbelief at the venom in his tone, "What? How dare you..."

Zevran silenced her with a wave of his hand, "He admitted to reading unsealed notes and letters, not to spying. Do you realize that without those liberties he's taken, he would likely not have been able to get me to read your summons and I would not be here?"

"I... didn't know," she said uncertainly, biting her lip.

"And now," Zevran continued, "it will be much more difficult to trick him into revealing himself if he truly is. I told you to leave this to me, did I not? Now that you've disregarded my advice, you may handle the matter on your own," he said with finality.

"No, Zev," she protested, "I need you. I shouldn't have... it wasn't my intent..."

"You rely upon me too much. It makes you sloppy," he said, his tone cold.

"What should I do, then?"

The Antivan shrugged, "This is a matter for you to decide on your own, _carina._"

"Fine. I'll keep him in that cell until I figure out what to do with him. Will you at least search his room and help me track down anyone who might know him in the alieanage?"

Zevran sighed, "That much, I suppose I can do, if I have the assurance that he will be well cared-for."

"I... yes, isolation will serve, he doesn't need to suffer." Her eyes narrowed, "Have you gotten too close, Zevran?"

"Hardly," he scoffed, wishing it were as completely true as he made it sound. "If you find that he must be eliminated, I will carry out the deed, but remember that you have no proof he is anything but what he claims to be."

"So you'd kill him but you won't interrogate him?" she asked incredulously, betraying her hope that he would give her a different answer.

_Suffer your actions, Ravenna, I won't save you from the discomfort your mistakes cause you._ "If you can't prove your suspicions, you will have to pay me, but yes. Death is clean, _cara_. Torture is worse than murder."

She nodded, frowning thoughtfully, "Good. I'm still angry with you, but... that's good." Ravenna sighed, crumpling forward and resting her face in her hands. She rubbed her face and looked up at him, "Void take me, I really made a mess of this, didn't I?"

Zevran wondered what aspect of what he said she approved of, but knew that if he asked and didn't like the answer, it might require a response he knew he wasn't ready to carry out yet. "You did," he agreed, then turned on his heel to leave. "And for the record," he said over his shoulder, "I'm angry with you as well, _cara_. Do try to make amends soon, I hate maintaining a grudge." Ravenna blinked and he was gone before she could muster a response.

_Author's note: Shorter chapter this time. Which is better? Long or short? Getting closer to the end. Slowly, slowly, getting closer... Thank you for reading. Reviews make my week and move this story up on my priority list._ :)


	26. Chapter 26

Ravenna quietly entered the dungeon, hoping her prisoner would be sleeping. She needed to see him, but that didn't mean she wanted to be seen. She had promised Zevran– and herself– that Kirran would be treated well, and she took it upon herself to personally ensure that he was. She trusted the recruits she had assigned to guard him, but she also knew that merely being given authority over someone could turn good men into abusive tyrants, especially if they believed themselves to be on the side of right. Not everyone was cut out to handle power.

The dungeon was too dimly lit, she couldn't see Kirran through the barred walls of his cage-like cell. It was just like the cell she'd been kept in when she was captured and held in this fort and merely seeing it made her stomach twist and her heart race. She stepped closer, and her boot knocked against a half-empty water pail. She silently cursed and turned away, hoping to remain unseen. She wasn't that lucky.

"Ravenna!" Kirran called, his voice hoarse. "You can't leave me here forever, I didn't _do_ anything! Please, just talk to me. Ask me anything and I swear I'll tell you the truth!"

She turned to look at him through the bars, steeling herself and careful to keep her expression neutral. Kirran was haggard. She had instructed the guards to not let him sleep more than a few hours at a time. And though he was given enough to eat and drink, he'd been barely picking at his meals for days, and there was no way to keep this part of the fort warm at this time of year.

Perhaps it was time to ask some questions. She really didn't have the stomach for this, and knowing a man who had been her lover was suffering like this on her orders was giving her nightmares. Could she really have been considering having him killed for merely reading her _unsealed_ letters? He stared at her, the desperation in his eyes making her feel sick at what she was doing, but she made herself steadily hold his gaze until he looked away.

"If you're going to keep me locked up, at least let the guards talk to me. I'm going mad, Ravenna. How long has it been? If you ever had any kindness for me..."

"Only one week, Tabris. After you bathe, we'll talk. Fortunately for you, I have little time to concern myself with this matter. I need resolution."

"Thank the Spirits," the elf murmured, sagging in relief.

"Don't thank them yet, recruit," Ravenna snapped, turning on her heel and leaving him in the gloom of her dungeon. On her way out, she ordered his guards to keep him in irons, but to let him bathe and then to bring him to her in her office. She needed to find Zevran.

* * *

><p>"<em>Carina<em>, I thought I had been clear. This is _your_ problem, unless you can prove he has been duplicitous or you have a rather hefty purse of gold for me."

"Zevran, I need someone I can trust. I don't know what he'll say and I can't be alone with him. Please? You needn't be seen, just knowing you're there..."

"No," he interrupted sharply. "Your actions are unjustifiable, Ravenna, and I will not be part of them. Besides," he said, his tone suddenly much lighter, "you have failed to apologize and I'm still quite vexed."

"For what do I apologize?" she snarled. "I already admitted that I made a grave mistake in revealing my suspicions to him before I was ready to act. Do you think I enjoy this? I'd give much to change my actions, but there's no going back."

"Not for you," Zevran agreed.

"You love him," Ravenna concluded, startled at the revelation. "But you poisoned him and delivered him to me. You think he'd forgive you?"

Zevran shrugged. "If I loved him, could you fault me for hoping as much? And I don't claim that I do, those were _your_ words. I left the Crows to escape this sort of suspicion and abuse, and they are much more dangerous than you, my dear."

Her shoulders slumped and her gaze settled on the recently cleared desk she was leaning against. "I'm sorry, Zev. I never intended for any of this to happen. Everything's going to the void."

"Quite tidily," he agreed. "Would you like me to conduct this interview in your stead?"

"No, it's my responsibility," she said, her tone dull and lifeless. She suspected Zevran was testing her. And if he wasn't and she agreed, there was nothing to stop Zevran from spiriting Kirran out a window and into the night while she was waiting for answers. She unconsciously reached to touch the jeweled earring dangling next to her jaw. Its presence was comforting, but she believed Zevran likely regretted giving it to her. _I should have been strong enough to refuse, just as I should have refused Alistair's rose and every other childish token he offered me. Living free and alone is better than being owned and slowly smothered by expectations and responsibilities._

"Very well, _cara_. I will make a point of being easy to find, should you need me."

"Zev," she called after him. He turned back and she continued, "Would you please come see me tonight?"

"Perhaps, _adoravana,_" he said, his lips curling into an ironic smile before he turned on his heel and left her office.

* * *

><p>"You must believe me, Ravenna," Kirran quietly insisted.<p>

"How can I when the only person in the alienage who knows you– a cousin, by the way– couldn't tell me the color of your eyes? She said you were close, and I do realize eye color is far less important than so many other things, but she _got it wrong_."

"I know half the bloody alienage, I grew up there!"

"Yet no one would admit to knowing you this time. Are you really Kirran Tabris, or have you merely stolen his name? What would that cousin say if I brought her to meet you?"

"Is Shianni here?"

"What do you think?"

"I doubt she'd come quietly," he replied after a moment's thought. "And you've... treated me well. I don't think you'd arrest a woman and lock her up just so she could tell you whether she knows me or not. You're not that cruel."

"That's probably the best compliment anyone's paid me in a week, Kirran. And you're right. She wouldn't come here, and I didn't see fit to arrest her."

"Thank you. She and my fiancee were taken..." he drew a shuddering breath, "she was raped by the previous arl of Denerim and his cronies on my wedding day. None of the other women survived. She probably would have died before letting your men lay a hand on her."

"I had no idea," Ravenna said, though in truth, she had already heard the story from Shianni herself. Almost word for word. Shianni had added more description, and her anger and shame were beyond believable– they were heartbreaking. But now, Ravenna wondered if it was all an act. It was seeming more and more likely, but there was no way for her to prove it.

"Why do you want to be a warden, Kirran?"

"I can't think of anything better," he answered somberly. "The wardens saved me– _you_ saved me. For that I owe my loyalty. There aren't many options for my people, and I can't bear the thought of wasting my life."

"Being a warden grants respect," she agreed. "People fear us. They fear our power."

"I've always wanted respect, but no one should fear the heros who shield the world from the blight. I know there's a dark side to the power the wardens wield, but..."

"Go on," Ravenna prompted.

"I just realized I've always equated personal power with freedom, but that's wrong, isn't it? You're not free at all, and you're the Hero of Ferelden, Warden Commander, and soon to be the Queen, as well. You're probably one of the most bound and kept women in Ferelden."

Ravenna detected no hint of irony or malice– it seemed a true realization, so she checked her temper. "I slip my tether now and again, as you well know, Kirran."

"Maybe _one_ of the many that bind you. Spreading your legs for whomever catches your eye isn't a very convincing display of freedom, though cuckolding the king of Ferelden does take nerve. Will you still do it when you're his wife, though?"

She tried to hide her anger, but he'd chosen his barbs well. When she spoke, her tone was light and conversational, but there was a false note in it, "You're right. I'm not free. The games I play to keep myself distracted from that fact are meaningless."

"You wish they were," he corrected, feeling mean but not regretting his words a bit.

"You think you know me, but believe me, you know little and less, Tabris," she growled, rising angrily from her chair behind the large desk, both palms planted on its surface.

"How can you actually believe your past is secret?" he asked, injecting a hint of wonder into his voice. "I certainly know enough."

"What do you mean?" she asked as she sank back to her seat, horrified at the realization that he undoubtedly had a point.

"You're the Hero of Ferelden and the King's consort. Anyone who's ever known you is capitalizing on that. Most of it's probably not true, but I'm good at sorting information and finding the truth. But that's not important– we're not here to talk about you, are we? What else do you want to know?"

Ravenna was silent for several moments, her head resting in her hands. When she finally drew herself up, her shoulders slumped and she didn't meet his eyes. Her tone was dull and lifeless, "I'm so very weary of all of this, Kirran. I don't have any more questions. Either you're honest or you're not. Your answers will be the same either way, won't they?"

"I promised to tell you the truth, Commander," he reminded.

Ravenna shook her head and tossed him the key to his manacles and shackles, which he deftly caught. There was enough slack in the chain for him to free himself, which he quickly did. "If you answered truthfully, then I thank you for it and beg your forgiveness for my suspicions and how poorly I've treated you."

"And if I didn't?" Kirran asked grimly. He couldn't help it, but the fight seemed to have left her.

"Then I suppose I don't care anymore. I was supposed to die with the Archdemon, and I wish I had. If my suspicions were founded, perhaps you'll find a way to correct that error of fate," she said, brushing past him and leaving him alone in the office.

Kirran kicked at the iron that had so recently bound him and wondered that Ravenna had left him unsupervised in her office. Either it was a ruse, and he was being watched, or she truly meant what she said. He didn't know which was worse. There was an easy way to find out, though. He circled the desk and tried the drawer he knew held Ravenna's important letters. It was locked, but the key hadn't been moved from its place beneath the wooden box that held sealing wax and brass pen nibs. The lock clicked and he pulled the drawer open. His eyes flicked over the empty room before he settled in to read the top letter.

"_Carino,_" a familiar voice softly called, startling him.

"Zev! I didn't know you were there," Kirran said, dropping the paper in his hands and shoving the drawer closed before whirling to face him, fearing that he had his answer and that he had doomed himself to another stay in Ravenna's dungeon or worse.

"You weren't meant to," Zevran softy explained. "More importantly, Ravenna was not meant to."

"You're not... acting with her?" Kirran asked, relief washing over him. Zevran would not have been easy to overpower, even if he had been in better physical condition. He didn't want a confrontation with the former Crow, anyway.

The tattooed elf's lips twisted in a sneer, "Certainly not. I owe you an apology, _amante_, for following the orders in that note. I am beyond relieved that Ravenna has come to her senses."

"You cut me with a poisoned blade," Kirran stated flatly, unwilling to believe and forgive so easily.

"That I did, and you have my apology for that as well. Has it healed cleanly?"

"The scar will take years to fade," Kirran informed him, not only speaking of the physical mark. Zevran nodded and his eyes were sad. Maybe he understood. He seemed genuinely contrite. Maybe he was being truthful. "Why did you, if you regret it now?"

"The note– my orders– didn't specify what you had done to provoke her suspicion and wrath. She had explored several scenarios which cast you as a very dangerous character. I wished to protect her, but when I learned how little you had done to offend her I refused to support her any further."

"Are you going to leave the fort, then?"

"You're not. Should I?"

"I... hope you don't. I get the feeling you had a lot to do with Ravenna coming to her senses so quickly. I don't want to imagine what she might have done without you here."

Zevran nodded, "She is volatile, particularly now."

"I wish I'd known that a few months ago. I knew it was a bad idea to get invested in someone like her, but..."

"She has certain charms," Zevran finished for him, not caring to hear more. "How do you feel about her now?"

"I want to be a Warden. She's the Commander."

"If she wishes you to continue as her lover?"

Kirran glanced away, hoping to hide the anger he knew his eyes would betray if he didn't. "It wouldn't be the same," he answered. "She wouldn't have been able to do what she did to me if she cared for me half as much as I cared for her. I knew she wouldn't ever be mine, but..."

"You must do as you wish," Zevran interrupted again. "But I would advise mending things, demonstrating that you bear no grudge, then allow her to drift away. She feels guilt for how she treated you, or you'd still be in that cell, and that will drive her to avoid you."

"You think it'll be that easy?"

Zevran shrugged, "So it seems to me."

"And what about you?"

"I have certain... obligations, but when they are discharged, I plan to return to Antiva. I have much to settle there and I've delayed overlong as it is."

"Antiva," Kirran repeated with a sigh. He had known from the beginning that neither Ravenna, nor Zevran would remain in his life for long, but it had all fallen apart so quickly... "I'll miss you."

"You could join me. Ravenna has already declined, but she would no longer by my first choice."

Kirran nodded, pleased by his answer, and even more pleased by the invitation he was almost certain he wouldn't take advantage of. He _did_ wish to become a warden. It was probably a foolish wish, but it would free him of many things he wanted to be done with. "Promise to tell me before you go. I... I need to think," he said, feigning more uncertainty than he felt.

"As you wish, _carino,_" the former Crow said, inclining his head and turning to leave.

"Aren't you going to ask if she was right?" Kirran said, a hint of suspicion still driving him to press the other man for answers, but mostly he didn't want Zevran to go. After so much silence, speaking was an immeasurable relief. A raw, hysterical edge of his mind threatened to break at the thought of being left alone.

Zevran frowned, "That's not what I'm here for. I don't know what I'd do with it if you told me you were reporting to Weisshaupt, or Orlais, or the prince of Starkhaven. By her own words, the answer no longer matters to her, and by her actions, it no longer matters to _me_."

"What do you believe?" he prompted, desiring the answer more than he could account for.

Zevran crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back, studying his face thoughtfully for a moment before answering. "You're more than you claim to be, and your cousin, Shianni, is not your cousin and does not know you well, but she is ready to brave her fears to lie for you. You aren't working for the Crows and you've proven to be more invested in the Commander's well-being than I am myself. I don't know what that amounts to, and though I find myself curious, I have no drive to find the answer."

"I have training," Kirran supplied, surprised to hear himself admitting as much to the other elf. But now that he had begun, there was no reason to stop. "The Wardens approached me and helped me secure my cover and recruitment, but I didn't take their gold," he continued.

"Enough, _carino._ Tell me no more and I can't betray you," Zevran interrupted, seeming genuinely distressed. "I have much to do," he said, turning once more.

"Don't leave me," Kirran pleaded, his tone shaming him, but he couldn't care enough to recant. Instead he reached out, his hand closing on Zevran's shoulder, "At least not yet... I've been locked in a cell before, but never... I just don't want to be alone again. I can't bear it yet."

"What do you want, Kirran?"

_I wanted to belong– to be something more than the worthless knife-ear sees when they look at me,_ he thought bitterly. "You know what I want, Zev," he said, wishing he had the courage to be more forthcoming– to admit that he had no idea what drove him or what he expected to gain from his actions. But this was enough because it would keep Zevran from leaving him alone– at least for the night.

A smile tugged at one corner of Zevran's lips, "Come with me, then, _carino._ It wasn't my intent to abandon you. My bed hasn't been as cold as yours this past week, but you've been sorely missed, and you look to be in desperate need of both comfort and rest."

"In your bed I doubt I'll find the latter, Zev," he said with a satisfied smirk.

"I swear to let you rest, _amante_," the Antivan said somberly, holding his hand over his heart to indicate his sincerity. "Until dawn, at which point my lust will doubtless become unbearable and I believe you shall find your slumber very _insistently_ intruded upon should you still occupy my bed."

Kirran smiled, nothing forced in it this time, and pulled Zevran close to kiss him warmly. "We'll see. Somehow I doubt you can last until dawn, Zev."

"I've done so before, have I not?" the former Crow answered with a chuckle, spinning away to lead him through the dark, cold halls to their destination, which was neither.


	27. Chapter 27

Ravenna avoided looking the line of recruits in the eyes. She couldn't. She remembered well the desperation and fear that had filled her when she witnessed Daveth destroyed by the taint, then Jory cut down by Duncan when he tried to flee at her own joining. Luckily, none of her recruits had refused the cup, but only one of the five so far had survived.

The cup passed, the words were spoken, and the young woman drank deep. Ravenna held her breath until the girl fell to the floor and the warden from Weisshaupt declared that she would live.

Kirran was next. Her heart hammered against her ribs, and she forced herself to meet his eyes. The anger that blazed back at her was like a physical blow. He held her eyes as he took the cup, spoke his oath and swallowed the poison without hesitation. He gagged and staggered, but he didn't fall. The assisting warden steadied him and murmured something into Kirran's ear. Kirran nodded and the warden lowered him to a kneeling position on the floor. Ravenna caught the warden's eye and didn't relax until the man nodded. Kirran would live. The taint would not claim him today.

* * *

><p>Kirran knocked on the heavy oaken door to the Commander's office, then waited patiently. He was beginning to gain the ability to sense the taint in others. His fellow recruits were difficult to feel, but Ravenna pulled strongly at his new sense, as did Alistair and the visiting wardens. The door opened and another of the thirteen recruits who had survived the Joining brushed past him. The young woman looked angry and didn't acknowledge him. He stepped into the office, saluted, and stood ready, not meeting Ravenna's eyes, as was proper.<p>

"Warden. Have a seat," Ravenna offered. "You've been avoiding me."

"I've had duties to attend to, Commander," he argued. "We lost two thirds of the recruits to the joining. There are barely enough of us to guard the keep unless we shirk our training."

"Of course. I was hoping we could... put my mistakes behind us."

"Sure, Commander. Is that all?"

A flicker of disappointment crossed her features, but she quickly mastered her reaction. "Not even close," she said. "I'm promoting you. The King... requires my presence too often and I've been struggling to keep up with my duties. I want to train you to take my place if... Well, we can't have an Orlesian in the position of Warden Commander and training you is a good step to make sure that doesn't happen. As of now, you're my lieutenant."

"Ma'am. Thank you for your confidence. I won't disappoint you," he promised, surprised by the promotion. He was conflicted about the reason behind it, and about being trained to replace Ravenna, but he knew he was equal to the task.

"Report to me tomorrow morning and we'll begin your training. You're dismissed."

Kirran stood, saluted, and left the office, leaving the door standing open behind him. He was proud to be a Warden, but he was unbelievably angry with the deception surrounding the Joining. Understanding the necessity didn't alleviate his anger or the sense of betrayal he felt. He had a training session with Zevran– another person he wished to avoid. Zev denied knowledge of what risk the Joining posed, but the Antivan's relief at seeing him emerge from the great hall betrayed him. Kirran strongly suspected cowardice was what kept Zevran from joining the ranks of the Wardens. His troubles with the Crows would be nothing if he became a Warden, so what else would hold him back?

"Brother, hold," a voice he recognized as belonging to one of Weisshaupt's emissaries called.

"Warden," Kirran greeted.

"My comrades are leaving Ferelden soon. I would speak with you when your duties permit."

"My weapon training can wait. What matters do we have to discuss?"

"Come, walk the walls with me," the warden suggested, leading the way. "You Fereldan wardens are a tight-lipped lot. A man could die of boredom for lack of gossip."

"Ah, then you aren't listening, messere. Rumors and lies and ugly truths are everywhere for the asking."

"Oh? Then tell me a tale of your Commander."

"You must be deaf if you've heard nothing of her. The whole country has her name on their lips."

"But what's known of her within these walls is what interests me. She disappears sometimes. Often, actually. Half the time she's with the King, but where does she go the rest of the time?"

"To the dungeon to lick her wounds and worry at scars," Kirran answered without hesitation. Not long ago, he would have answered with stony silence, but times had changed.

"The dungeons are empty, or so I was told."

"So they are, and so they'll stay. Empty save for ghosts and memories. The commander lost her fingers in this fort before the blight was ended."

"Ah. Yes, I had heard that," the warden conversationally confirmed.

"You don't believe me. What prisoner do you think she keeps?"

"We don't know. You're new to the order, so perhaps you don't appreciate the gravity of what has happened, but all initiated Wardens know that to slay an archdemon is death. More than that, it spells the death of the very soul. A necessary sacrifice, and a secret one. Yet the Archdemon is dead and Ravenna Cousland is not. And she doesn't seem to lack a soul, either, though hers is far more... tainted than we expected to find in such a young recruit. Perhaps she keeps the vessel containing the Archdemon's soul in Fort Drakon's dungeons. Who would know?"

"That sneaky fellow you brought with you, for one," Kirran suggested. "I'm afraid I don't know his name."

"Ah, Ivo. He's a good man. Sneaky, as you say. But not sneaky enough to find the Commander's secrets."

"Even if I had what you're looking for, serrah, I wouldn't betray the Commander. None of her men will."

"Not even after she had you poisoned and locked in a cage for... what was your offense again? I don't believe anyone could answer me that."

"Not even after that," Kirran said, refusing to indulge the senior warden. "Look elsewhere for your answers. But in the spirit of brotherhood, I'll venture to remind you that there was another warden on that rooftop. A show of brotherhood and a bottle of rotgut might buy you what can't be had for any price in this fort."

"I see," the warden said brightly, clearly pleased with Kirran's suggestion. "Thank you for the conversation. I suppose the walls will have to wait as I have a purchase or two to make. Congratulations on your promotion. Weisshaupt, I believe, will find no cause to send a foreigner to oversee operations in Ferelden, Warden Tabris."

"Wait," he called, surprised at the steel in his tone. The warden turned back, almost warily, Kirran thought. "Have you spoken to the Commander directly?" he asked.

"Concerning her secrets? No."

"Her 'tainted spirit' is half broken. She's distracted and distressed. Honestly, I believe she might do drastic things to free herself from the prison being built around her, so long as a minimal degree of comfort was assured."

"To avoid becoming the most powerful woman in Ferelden? Difficult to credit such a claim."

"As you will. Good day," Kirran said, then turned on his heel and went to find Zevran. He tried to assure himself that he'd been considering Ravenna's well being by telling the Warden so much. He believed no harm would come to her, even if it improved nothing, but it still felt like betrayal.

* * *

><p>Sweet singing drifted through the halls and corridors of the palace. Ravenna set her jaw and continued, though it was definitely growing louder the closer she drew to her destination. She feared it was the voice of Alistair's lover. Lady Coralai of nowhere. The bastard get of a Bann who wouldn't claim her. Well, that was like to change very soon, assuming Alistair didn't grow tired of his mistress too soon. She considered turning back rather than face the humiliation of making polite conversation with the bitch, but her pride wouldn't let her flee from the woman. The <em>girl<em>, judging by the sound of her voice that carried through the half-open door at the end of the hall. The song had finished and a deep male voice spoke, probably compliments and praise, followed by a girlish giggle.

Ravenna didn't pause, but entered the sitting room without so much as knocking. "My King," she greeted, bowing formally. "You summoned me," she stated as she straightened.

"Ravenna, you look like the grim messenger of death," Alistair laughingly admonished. "Come sit with us. Cora's singing for me and your brother's fetching another bottle of wine. I'm afraid we finished the first one... Two? Maker, Cora, you're a little sot," he playfully scolded the pretty blonde woman sitting at his feet, earning another giggle.

"Lady Coralai," Ravenna sharply interrupted. "I don't believe we've been introduced. I understand you've been... entertaining my betrothed. Forgive me if I don't thank you," she icily said, looking down her nose at the girl, whose eyes shone with tears as she looked up at Alistair like a pathetic little puppy begging its master for pats.

"Don't be such a bitch, Rave. I won't have you speaking to Cora like that. Besides, it was your idea, _dearest._"

"Why did you summon me?" Ravenna demanded, shoving aside her temper. "I lost two thirds of my recruits to the Joining and the delegation for Weisshaupt is trying to take half of what's left back to the Anderfels for training."

"You should let them go. How else will they become real wardens? You don't know half of what I do about the order, and that's not even enough to prepare the Joining."

"I need a lore master deployed to Ferelden, Alistair, not to send away my wardens."

"Afraid you'll lose your personal army, Rave? Got something planned? Should I be scared?"

"Don't make light of this. The toll was heavy and where were you? I'm not the only Fereldan warden, that burden shouldn't have been mine alone, Alistair."

Alistair visibly sobered. "You're right. I'm sorry. I... suppose I was busy."

"You suppose?" Ravenna said, her voice cold.

"Lady Cousland, it was my fault," Coralai interjected, her sweet voice betraying her naivete. "Please don't be cross with Alistiar."

Ravenna turned her gaze on Coralai and the girl defiantly lifted her chin, though she had a white-knuckle grip on her skirts. "Why did you summon me, Alistair?"

"I've been missing you. It's been a long time since I saw you and..."

"And now you've seen me. Give Fergus my regards. Good day, your Majesty," she said, sharply turning on her heel and stalking from the room. The walk to the doors seemed to take forever in the large room but finally she reached them. She resisted the urge to slam them in her wake, but she reminded herself that she was above throwing such a tantrum. Fergus stopped short in the corridor, uttering a surprised exclamation.

"Ravenna, you're leaving already?" he asked, wine strong on his breath.

"Absolutely. What in the void are you doing here?"

"Enjoying the King's wine cellar and Lady Cora's fine voice. Did you hear her sing? Sister, what's wrong?"

"You're party to this?" she demanded, disgusted by the prickling of tears trying to form in her eyes. "My own brother?" she choked out, feeling like an icy knife had been plunged into her chest.

"Ravenna, dearheart, I'm doing my best to free you from that damned contract," Fergus fiercely whispered after glancing around the corridor. "I thought to save you from my foolish mistake."

"He's never going to let me go," she snarled. "He enjoys watching me suffer and that vapid _bitch_ had the gall to look me in the eyes and _argue_ with me."

"Listen to yourself, Rave," Fergus chastised. "The girl is guileless. She truly loves him, and damned if he isn't just as smitten. If nothing else, she's keeping him occupied and away from you. Honestly, I thought you'd like her. She reminds me so much of you when you were young, before you... learned to fight," Fergus lamely finished. "Except she can sing and you had to take up the lute because your voice is so terrible," he said, trying to joke.

"Just like me?" Ravenna asked in a hushed voice, as she turned to gaze back into the room just in time to see Alistair pull Cora into his lap and lovingly kiss her. Traitorous tears spilled down her cheeks. Alistair loved a woman that was a reflection of who she might have been if her girlish innocence hadn't delivered her into the nightmare of her abduction? And Fergus... her own brother, the one who had helped her begin to piece her sanity back together, was drinking wine and laughing, and falling in love with her– as a sister, of course– too? "The Maker is cruel," she murmured, shoving Fergus out of her way and all but running down the corridor.

"Ravenna, come back!" he called, but he didn't follow her and he didn't call for her a second time. She fled the palace and ignored the salutes, greetings and hails of those she passed. She wanted none of it. She wanted back what she could never regain.


End file.
